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COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  GERMANIC  STUDIES 


GRILLPARZER  AS  A   POET   OF 
NATURE 


GRILLPARZER  AS  A   POET   OF 
NATURE 


BY 


FAUST  CHARLES  DE  WALSH,  Ph.D. 

Instructor  in  the  German  Language  and  Literature,  The  College  of  the  City  of  New  York 


"gtia  gork 

THE  COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

1910 

Al/  rights  reserved 


Copyright,  1910 
By  The  Columbia  University  Press 

Printed  from  type  September,  1910 


Press  of 

The  new  era  printing  company 

Lancaster.  Pa. 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


NOTE 

Mr.  De  Walsh's  careful  study  of  a  neglected  phase  of 
Grillparzer's  poetic  Eigenurt  seems  to  me  a  valuable  contribu- 
tion to  our  knowledge  of  the  great  Austrian  dramatist. 

Calvin  Thomas. 

Columbia  University, 
June,  19 10. 


TO 

His  Excellency 

CARL  TRAUGOTT  KREYER,  Ph.D.,  LL.D. 
Counsellor  to  the  Imperial  Chinese  Embassy,  Rome,  Italy 

WITH  THE  AFFECTION  AND  GRATITUDE  OF 

THE   AUTHOR 


PREFACE 

The  present  study  grew  out  of  a  paper  written  for  the 
Germanic  Seminar  in  Columbia  University  conducted  by  Pro- 
fessor Calvin  Thomas.  I  feel  greatly  indebted  to  this  scholar 
for  his  invaluable  assistance  and  encouragement,  and  it  affords 
me  pleasure  to  have  the  opportunity  of  thanking  Professor 
Thomas  in  this  place  for  his  much  appreciated  guidance  and 
help. 

I  also  wish  to  express  my  sincere  gratitude  to  Professors 
William  H.  Carpenter,  Hervey,  Tombo  and  Remy  for  their 
contribution  to  my  training  as  a  student  of  Germanic  languages 
and  literatures. 

The  service  of  Mr.  Ludwig  Lewisohn,  A.M.,  who  read  the 
proof,  is  gratefully  acknowledged. 

F.  C.  D. 

New  York  City, 
June,  igio. 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS 
Introduction 

PAGE. 

Grillparzer's  sensitiveness  to  aspects  of  nature xi 

Chapter   I 
General  Orientation i 


Chapter    II 

Grillparzer's  Description  of  Nature. 

1.  His  definition  of  the  relation  between  nature  and 

man 14 

2.  The  seasons. 

(a)  Spring 15 

(b)  Summer  and  Autumn 19 

(c)  Winter 21 

3.  Phenomena  of  nature. 

(a)  Light  and  darkness 24 

(b)  Water 35 

(c)  Thunder,  lightning,  rain,  wind 39 

4.  General  Description. 

(a)  Landscapes 42 

(b)  Comparisons  46 

Chapter   III 

Grillparzer's  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

1.  Characteristics   of   nature    (poetry   and   independ- 

ence )    51 

2.  Solitude 58 

3.  Mysticism 62 

4.  Sympathy 66 

5.  Symbolism   72 

ix 


PAGE 

6.  Nature  as  the  ideal  of  beauty  and  love;  nature  a 
symphony  of  beauty;  the  Loved  One  in  nature; 
Irenens  Wiederkehr   74 

Conclusion. 

Esthetic  idea  of  Grillparzer ;  impossibility  of  artificial 

reproduction  of  nature ;  general  conclusions 89 


INTRODUCTION 

Grillparzer's  Sensitiveness  to  Aspects  of  Nature 

When,  on  November  lo,  1859,  the  University  of  Leipzig 
conferred  upon  Franz  Grillparzer  the  degree  of  doctor  of 
philosophy,  Professor  Heinrich  Wuttke,  the  speaker  upon  this 
solemn  occasion,  the  centenary  of  Schiller's  birth,  expressed 
the  hope,  referring  to  Grillparzer,  that  "  posterity  would  be 
more  just  to  him  than  his  contemporaries  had  been."  Wuttke's 
sympathetic  wish,  which  has  reference  to  the  inadequate  rec- 
ognition of  Grillparzer's  dramatic  genius,  has  since  been  abun- 
dantly fulfilled.  Grillparzer's  fame  as  a  dramatist  is  now 
firmly  established,  and  the  ever-increasing  Grillparzer-litera- 
ture  now  forms  a  fair-sized  library.  A  Grillparzer  Jahrbuch, 
begun  in  1890,  is  already  a  veritable  encyclopedia  of  informa- 
tion concerning  the  poet  and  his  works;  and  the  Grillparzer 
bibliography  in  Vol.  VIII  of  Goedeke's  Grundriss  fills  143 
closely  printed  octavo  pages. 

In  all  this  mass  of  literature,  however,  there  is  very  little 
relating  to  Grillparzer's  poetry  of  nature,  although  his  plays 
fairly  teem  with  passages  that  are  interesting  to  the  student 
of  that  subject.  I  find  only  one  brief  article  of  seven  pages, 
published  by  Adolf  Foglar  in  1897,^  which  deals  with  Grill- 
parzer's relation  to  nature,  but  it  contains  only  little  informa- 
tion and  represents  a  mere  suggestion  without  leading  to  any 
definite  conclusion.  Foglar  quotes  a  number  of  passages 
from  Grillparzer's  diaries  (Reise  nach  Italien;  Orientreise ; 
Reise  durch  Deutschland,)  in  which  the  poet  recorded  his 
impressions  of  nature,  and  then  he  goes  on  to  show  that 
Grillparzer's  description  of  nature  is  at  its  best  when  his 
intense  patriotism  blends  with  his  poetry.  For  this  purpose, 
Foglar  quotes  from  Ottokar,  and  this  is  the  only  reference 
made  to  Grillparzer's  plays.      The  subsequent  pages  of  the 

^  Literarisches  Jahrbuch  des  deutschen  Schulvereins,   1897,   pp.   84-91. 


xn 

article  make  brief  mention  of  a  few  of  Grillparzer's  lyric 
poems,  and,  in  conclusion,  the  author  emphasizes  the  influence 
exerted  by  nature  upon  the  poet's  musical  ear. 

The  general  neglect  of  Grillparzer  as  a  poet  of  nature  is, 
after  all,  not  very  surprising,  since  that  is  not  the  important 
aspect  of  his  work.  He  is  one  of  the  foremost  dramatists  in 
German  literature,  and  this  fact  accounts  for  the  small  im- 
portance of  his  lyric  verse,  in  which  we  should  naturally  look 
for  his  message,  if  he  had  one,  as  a  poet  of  nature.  With  the 
great  lyrists  of  his  own  epoch — Eichendorfif,  Heine,  Uhland — 
Grillparzer  had  little  in  common.  "  Die  starke  Quelle  seiner 
Dramatik,"  says  R.  M.  Meyer,-  "  iiberschwemmte  die  Beete 
der  Lyrik.  War  ein  Mann  zum  Dramatiker  geboren,  so  war 
es  Franz  Grillparzer." 

If  I  have  undertaken  in  this  study,  notwithstanding  what 
has  been  said,  to  treat  minutely  and  elaborately  of  Grillparzer 
as  a  poet  of  nature,  it  is  not  because  I  desire  to  claim  a  place 
for  him  as  a  great  poet  of  nature,  or  to  show  that  he  had  any 
peculiar  or  highly  important  message  to  deliver,  but  because 
I  wish  to  throw  light  on  Grillparzer's  Eigenart  as  a  poetic 
dramatist.  Individual  traits  of  great  poets  are  of  considerable 
importance  for  the  understanding  of  the  man  as  w^ell  as  of  the 
artist,  and  it  is  necessary  to  have  as  clear  a  conception  as  pos- 
sible of  the  various  characteristic  influences  which  are  at  work 
in  the  development  of  genius.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  I 
regard  my  work,  which  deals,  as  has  been  admitted,  with  a 
minor  phase  of  Grillparzer's  art,  as  a  contribution  to  the 
general  characterization  of  the  great  dramatist  and  of  the  man. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Grillparzer  was  throughout  his  long 
life  very  sensitive  to  out-of-door  impressions,  and  the  total 
reaction  of  nature  upon  him  colors  his  dramatic  work  to  a 
greater  extent  than  has  been  supposed.  Also  his  diaries  and 
letters  contain  frequent  references  to  such  personal  impres- 
sions. For  present  purposes  I  quote  three  passages  from  the 
poet's  diaries  and  one  from  his  letters,  which  show  that  Grill- 
parzer was  keenly  alive  to  the  wonders  of  nature;  that  he 

'Die  deutsche  Literatur  des  ncuncehnten  Jahrhiinderts.  Berlin,  1900. 
Vol.  I,  p.  84. 


XIU 

ascribed  to  nature  an  important  influence  upon  his  soul-life 
and  upon  his  imagination;  that  he  liked  to  commune  with 
nature ;  and,  finally,  that  his  sensitiveness  to  aspects  of  nature 
stayed  with  him  to  the  end  of  his  days.  In  1808,  Grillparzer 
writes  :^ 

Nothing  is  more  capable  of  arousing  love,  or  (according  to  cir- 
cumstances) sexual  passion  within  me,  than  a  beautiful  evening  in 
the  open  air,  especially  when  the  moon  shines.  On  a  fair  morning 
I  feel  quite  different:  I  am  inspired  and  lifted  above  all  passion.  I 
do  not  believe  that  I  could  see  the  sun  rise,  on  some  fair  morning, 
while  my  heart  is  harboring  vindictive  or  voluptuous  thoughts. 

In  1809,  he  describes  the  influence  of  nature  upon  his  imagina- 
tion thus  :* 

There  is  a  peculiar  charm  for  me  in  the  observation  of  the  clouds, 
when  I  take  a  walk  in  the  evening.  My  imagination  endows  them 
with  the  weirdest  shapes,  and  if  these  have  no  definite  significance, 
I  imagine  at  least  the  blue  sky  as  the  ocean,  and  the  masses  of 
clouds,  scattered  hither  and  thither,  as  islands.  There  I  build 
huts ;  there  I  dwell  with  my  sweetheart,  and  so  on. 

The  influence  of  nature  upon  his  imagination  was  as  strong 
in  1852^  as  in  1809: 

A  strange  thing  happened  to  me  to-day :  I  walked  about,  dream- 
ing. I  had  risen  early  and  taken  water  from  the  chalybeate  spring, 
then  a  bath,  and  another  glass  of  water,  and  now  I  was  walking 
in  the  park.  Suddenly,  I  came  to  a  part  of  the  park  where  I  had 
never  yet  set  foot.  It  was  so  beautiful,  and  the  groups  of  trees 
were  so  charming,  that  I  could  not  understand  how  this  part  had 
escaped  my  attention  to  this  day.  Unfortunately,  there  were  no 
benches,  while  every  place  was  an  invitation  to  sit  down. 

Only  a  few  years  before  his  death,  Grillparzer  wrote  Kath- 
arina  Frohlich  from  Teplitz,  June  17,  1865:*' 

Only  the  park  with  its  magnificent  trees  and  fairly  green  lawns 
(the  comfortable  benches  should  not  be  forgotten),  has  entirely 
charmed  me.  Here  I  have  been  sitting  for  hours,  in  spite  of  very 
cold  weather,  with  a  book,  and  with  wide-open  eyes,  as  is  my  habit. 

^  Brief e  und  Tagebilchcr,  II,  p.  5-  *  Ibid.,  II,  p.  21. 

^ Ibid.,  p.  136.  "Ibid.,  I,  p.  259. 


XIV 


Numerous  passages  in  the  Tagebiicher,  some  of  which  will 
be  discussed  later,  indicate  that,  as  traveler,  Grillparzer  was 
keenly  alive  to  natural  beauty.  It  may  be,  as  Foglar  says, 
that  he  "  never  traveled  for  pleasure's  sake,  or  only  to  see  a 
beautiful  country,"  but  certain  it  is  that  he  was  never  in- 
different to  the  beauty  that  came  in  his  way.  A  dull  land- 
scape gave  him  a  sense  of  oppression.  Hence  he  could  say, 
regarding  his  trip  to  Germany  in  1826:^  "  If  I  were  to  follow 
my  innermost  inclinations,  I  should  return  at  once,  and  journey 
home  again.  Nature,  in  these  regions,  is  not  sufficiently  attrac- 
tive, and  the  people  make  me  uncomfortable." 

Interesting  conclusions  regarding  Grillparzer's  personal 
sensitiveness  to  aspects  of  nature  may  be  drawn  from  many 
passages,  in  prose  and  verse,  which  deal  with  the  reaction  of 
nature  on  the  human  soul.  Two  points  come  into  considera- 
tion here :  the  transitory  effect  of  nature  reflected  in  Stimmung, 
and  the  permanent  effect  of  natural  environment  reflected  in 
the  character  of  man.  In  May,  1836,  Grillparzer  stood  in 
admiration  amidst  the  attractions  of  the  park  of  Versailles, 
and  with  a  vivid  recollection  of  what  he  had  seen,  he  wrote 
in  his  diary,  the  same  evening  :^  "  What  a  park !  In  all  my 
life  I  have  seen  nothing  more  beautiful.  Shall  I  here  admire 
nature  or  art?  The  sun  shone  warm,  the  trodden  grass  filled 
the  air  with  fragrance,  and  the  heavens  were  evidently  of  a 
deeper  blue  than  in  our  country.  /  smote  my  breast.  I  zcas 
like  a  child.  Everything  so  beautiful,  so  fair."  We  should 
not  be  misled  here  by  the  question :  "  Shall  I  admire  nature 
or  art?"  It  is  true  that  the  poet  was  deeply  impressed  with 
the  beauty  of  the  two  trianons.  He  calls  them  the  "  pearls  of 
the  park,"  but  he  turns  back  to  nature  immediately,  and  his 
thirsty  soul  drinks  in  the  splendor  of  sun,  sky,  and  flowers. 
His  mood  changes.  The  beauty  of  nature  takes  him  back  to 
the  happiest  stage  of  life — childhood.  There  is  innocence 
and  naive  ecstasy  in  the  words :  "  I  smote  my  breast.  I  was 
like  a  child." 

But  nature's  message  was  not  always  joyful.  When  he 
took  leave  of  the  sea,  at  Terracina,  in  June,  1819,  a  melancholy 

'  The  Roman  numbers  in  the  footnotes  refer  to  the  Cotta  edition  in  XX 
vols.     XX,  p.  27.  «  XX,  p.  94. 


sensation  seized  upon  him.  It  seemed  as  if  the  sea  were  aware 
of  the  esteem  in  which  he  held  it,  and  so  it  cunningly  donned 
its  fairest  appearance  :^  "  In  Terracina  I  enjoyed,  for  the  last 
time  on  this  journey,  the  sight  of  the  sea.  It  had  arrayed 
itself  most  beautifully,  and  lay  there  in  the  splendor  of 
heavenly  blue,  with  the  intention,  perhaps,  to  oppress  my  heart. 
Sadly,  I  took  leave  of  the  poetic  element  which  combines,  in 
such  magic  manner,  formidableness  and  sweetness  of  dis- 
position." 

The  beneficent  relief  brought  by  a  thunder-shower  is  beauti- 
fully expressed  by  Drahomira  i^" 

Es  fiihlt  das  Aug',  es  fiihlt  der  Busen  sich  erweitert 

Und  giebt  sich  hin  dem  Andrang  der  Natur, 

Und  aller  Sinne  leicht  erregter  Chor, 

Gleich  schwer  Belagerten,  die  kurz  zuvor 

Der  Feinde  Drang  mit  Furcht  und  Graus  umfangen, 

Sic  offnen  jauchzend  jedes  Thor, 

Den  siegenden  Befreier  zu  empfangen. 

References  to  the  influence  of  natural  environment  upon 
the  formation  of  character  are  not  infrequent.  When  Jason 
believes  Medea  to  be  inapproachable,  his  heart  is  filled  with 
hatred  for  Kolchis:" 

Sein  rauher  Hauch 
Vertrocknete  die  schonste  Himmelsblume, 
Die  je  im  Garten  bliihte  der  Natur; 

and  Kreon,  to  whom  the  inflexible  character  of  Medea  and 
Gora  is  incomprehensible,  blames  Kolchis  also,  when  he  calls 
both  women^^ 

Das  Bild  des  dunkeln  Landes,  das  sie  zeugte. 

When  Primislaus  confides  to  Libussa  his  plan  to  found  a  city, 
she  fears  that  the  walls  of  this  city,  separating  man  from 
nature,  will  have  an  ill  efifect  upon  the  character  of  man. 
Primislaus  admits  that  communion  with  nature  is  necessary 
for  the  human  heart :" 

•XIX,  p.  241.  "XI,  p.  116. 

"V,  p.  93.  "V,  p.  183. 

"VIII,  p.  202. 


XVI 

Gemeinschaft  mit  den  wandellosen  Dingen, 

Sie  ladet  ein  zum  Fuhlen  und  Geniessen. 

Man  geht  nicht  riickwiirts,  lebt  man  mit  dem  All; 

but  his  progressive  ambition  is  not  satisfied  with  this  alone ; 
he  insists  upon  carrying  out  his  project,  because:^* 

Doch  vorwarts  schreiten,  denken,  schaffen,  wirken 
Gewinnt  nach  innen  Raum,  wenn  eng  der  aussre. 

While  Primislaus  is  right  from  his  point  of  view,  Libussa's 
words  of  warning  contain,  perhaps,  a  good  deal  of  the  per- 
sonal inclination  of  the  poet  himself  who,  a  child  of  the  city, 
was  strongly  drawn  to  idyllic  country-life.  At  the  same  time, 
we  feel  the  presence  of  the  shadow  of  Rousseau  in  this  contrast 
between  civilization  and  nature. 

The  sympathetic  character  of  Melitta  is  also,  to  a  consider- 
able extent  at  least,  the  result  of  early  natural  environment. 
Her  sunny  disposition,  her  cheerfulness,  her  tender  heart, 
her  lack  of  selfishness,  and  her  virginal  purity,  are  traceable 
back  to  the  country  which  she  called  home,  before  Sappho 
purchased  her  from  some  slave-trader.  Time  has  cast  a 
veil  over  Melitta's  memory,  but  this  veil  is  not  so  thick  as  to 
obscure  entirely  the  maiden's  recollection :  the  name  of  her 
native  country  has  escaped  her  mind,  but  its  natural  sur- 
roundings have  left  such  a  deep  impression  in  her  soul,  that 
she  is  able  to  speak  of  them  to  Phaon  :^^ 

Nur  seine  Blumen,  seine  Thaler  hat 

Behalten  das  Gedachtnis,  nicht  den  Namen. 

Nur  glaub'  ich,  lag  es,  wo  die  Sonne  herkommt, 

Denn  dort  war  alles  gar  so  licht  und  hell. 

Not  only  individual  but  national  character  is  attributed  by 
Grillparzer  to  natural  environment,  and  it  appears  that  his 
comprehension  of  national  character  is  greatly  assisted  by  his 
study  of  local  nature.  On  his  way  to  Greece,  he  passed 
through  the  fertile  country  of  the  Hungarians,  and  the  wealth 
of  nature,  with  which  he  was  here  confronted,  explained  to 
him  a  part  of  Hungarian  national  character  which  he  was 
hitherto  unable  to  understand.      In  his  diary  one  finds  the 

^*Ibid.  i=lV,  p.  162. 


XVll 


following  significant  words  r^"  "  One  understands  the  high  as- 
pirations of  the  Hungarians,  upon  seeing  their  country.  I 
am  somewhat  reconciled  with  their  superlatives.  The  sun 
goes  down,  and  sets  water  and  air  on  fire.  The  young  moon 
comes  into  prominence.  .  .  .  An  indescribable  charm  lay 
over  the  country." 

All  biographers  of  Grillparzer  trace  the  poet's  musical  talent, 
as  well  as  his  inclination  toward  melancholy,  back  to  his 
mother,  while  his  keen  intellectual  power  is  generally  regarded 
as  his  paternal  heritage.  So  far  as  Grillparzer's  love  for 
nature  may  be  attributed  to  pre-natal  influence,  it  appears  that 
both  parents  transmitted  an  equal  share  to  their  oflFspring. 
In  his  Autobiography,  Grillparzer  describes  his  father  as 
follows  :^^  "  His  outward  manner  appeared  somewhat  cold 
and  harsh;  he  avoided  all  company,  hut  he  was  a  passionate 
friend  of  nature.  To  work,  at  first  in  his  own,  later  in  a 
rented  garden,  and  to  grow  flowers  of  all  kinds,  constituted 
almost  his  only  source  of  pleasure." 

So  far  as  Grillparzer's  fine  interpretation  of  the  musical 
element  in  nature  is  concerned,  attention  need  here  be  called 
only  to  the  fact  that  he  is,  just  as  for  his  musical  gift,  in- 
debted to  his  mother  also  for  this  phase  of  his  nature-poetry. 

Enough  has  been  said,  I  think,  to  show  in  a  general  way 
that  the  man  Grillparzer  was  a  lover  of  nature.  He  was  both 
observant  and  impressionable;  and  the  suggestions  that  he 
caught  entered  into  and  colored  the  texture  of  his  plays.  To 
show  in  some  detail  the  nature  of  these  manifold  reactions 
of  the  outer  world  upon  his  mind  and  art,  is  the  purpose  of 
this  study.  First,  however,  by  way  of  orientation,  let  us 
make  a  cursory  survey  of  the  earlier  history  of  the  poetry 
of  nature. 

"XX,  p.  152.  "XIX,  p.  II. 


General  Orientation 

The  nature-feeling  of  the  modern  man,  whether  poet  or  not, 
is  to  a  large  extent  the  product  of  his  reading.  We  have  come 
to  look  upon  nature  with  the  eyes  of  our  poets,  without  whose 
works  the  outer  world  would  not  react  on  us  as  it  does.  It  is 
obvious,  then,  that  our  feeling  for  nature  is  largely  a  matter 
of  literary  tradition.  If,  therefore,  we  set  out  to  study  the 
Eigenart  of  a  particular  poet,  we  need  to  know  the  tradition 
which  he  inherited,  in  order  to  do  him  justice,  and  in  order  to 
avoid  the  danger  of  thinking  him  new,  original,  or  peculiar, 
when  in  reality  he  only  voices  sentiments  which  have  often 
before  been  expressed  by  others.  It  is  the  purpose  of  the 
present  orientation  to  classify  and  illustrate  the  principal  reac- 
tions in  the  history  of  nature-poetry,  and  thus  to  establish, 
from  the  outset,  those  traditions  from  which  Grillparzer  drew 
in  his  own  attempt  to  describe  and  interpret  the  external  world. 
The  treatment  of  this  subject  must  necessarily  be  cursory,  and 
it  is  done,  without  much  claim  to  originality,  mainly  on  the 
basis  of  Biese's  thorough  work,^  while,  for  individual  poets 
or  epochs,  Batt,-  Geo.  Brandes,^  Butcher,*  Danton,^  Diez,*^ 
Fairclough,^  De  Laprade,^  Motz,^  Reynolds,^*'  Rundstrom,^^ 
Schmidt,^-  and  Shairp^^  have  been  consulted. 

^  Biese,  A.,  Die  Entzvicklung  des  Naturgefiihls  bei  den  Griechen,  Kiel, 
1882,  and  Die  Entwicklung  des  Naturgefiihls  im  Mittelalter  und  in  der 
Neuzeit,  Leipzig,  1892, 

^  Batt,  Max,  The  Treatment  of  Nature  in  German  Literature  from  Giinther 
to  the  Appearance  of  Goethe's  Werther,  Chicago,  1902. 

^  Die  Hauptstromungen  der  Literatur  des  neunzehnten  Jahrhunderts,  6 
vols.,  Leipzig,  1897. 

*  Butcher,  S,  H.,  Some  Aspects  of  the  Greek  Genius,  London,  1904. 

"  Danton,  G.  H.,  The  Nature  Sense  in  the  Writings  of  Ludwig  Tieck,  New 
York,  1907. 

'  Diez,  Friedr.,  Die  Poesie  der  Troubadours,  Zwickau,  1826. 

^  Fairclough,  H.  R.,  The  Attitude  of  the  Greek  Tragedians  to'cvard  Nature, 
Toronto,  1897. 

^  De  Laprade,  V.,  Le  sentiment  de  la  nature  chez  les  modernes,  Paris,  1870. 

*  Motz,  H.,  Uber  die  Empfindung  der  Naturschonheit  bei  den  Alien, 
Leipzig,   1865. 

"  Reynolds,  Myra,  The  Treatment  of  Nature  in  English  Poetry  between 
Pope  and  IVords^corth,  Chicago,  1896. 

"  Rundstrom,  Erich,  Das  Naturgefiihl  J.  J,  Rousseaus,  Konigsberg,  1907. 
"  Schmidt,  Erich,  Richardson,  Rousseau  und  Goethe,  Jena,  1875. 
"  Shairp,  J.  C,  On  Poetic  Interpretation  of  Nature,  New  York,  1877. 

1 


If  poetry  in  general  is  the  lofty  expression  of  individual 
soul-life,  nature-poetry  in  particular  reflects  the  attitude  of 
an  entire  epoch  toward  visible  phenomena.  These  various 
epochs  in  the  history  of  nature-poetry  are  characterized  by 
individual  reactions  which,  however,  as  Biese  points  out,^* 
do  not  lead  to  any  diametrical  contrast  between  ancient  and 
modern  nature-sense,  but  show  only  gradual  differences. 

It  might  seem,  perhaps,  as  if  the  possible  reactions  of  the 
human  soul  upon  the  external  world  were  too  numerous,  too 
elusive,  and  too  much  intermixed,  to  permit  of  any  classifica- 
tion whatever.  And  from  the  point  of  view  of  exact  science 
this  may  be  true.  If,  however,  we  are  content  to  use  the 
word  nature  somewhat  loosely,  in  its  usual  literary  sense,  and 
to  consider  only  those  reactions  which  have  played  a  some- 
what important  role  in  poetry,  then  the  problem  does  not 
seem  so  hopeless.  The  reactions  fall  under  a  comparatively 
few  heads  or  types,  which  it  is  possible  to  discriminate,  not 
indeed  with  ideal  scientific  accuracy,  but  well  enough  to  serve 
a  useful  purpose  in  literary  discussion.  The  principal  varie- 
ties appear  to  be  as  follows : 

I.  The  primitive  or  animal  reaction,  which  expresses 
the  pleasure  or  displeasure  that  we  feel — with  children,  savages 
and  the  lower  animals — ^according  as  nature  is  physically 
agreeable  or  disagreeable,  useful  or  harmful.  The  warm  sun 
is  appreciated,  if  the  weather  is  cold;  the  cool  shade,  if  it  is 
hot;  the  refreshing  spring  is  sought;  the  luscious  fruit  joyfully 
gathered ;  and  the  fertile  fields  viewed  with  happy  feelings ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  storm,  thunder,  lightning,  volcanic 
eruptions,  etc.,  inspire  fear  as  well  as  awe.  This  is  the  atti- 
tude of  Homer  toward  nature.  At  his  time,  the  influence  of 
mythological  concepts  and  ideals  was  of  extreme  importance, 
so  that  it  is  not  surprising  to  find  that  it  enters  largely  into  his 
portraiture  of  nature.  Since  the  gods  were  uppermost  in 
public  interest,  an  independent  and  subjective  nature-poetry 
could  hardly  take  root.  This,  however,  does  not  mean  that 
Homer's  epics  show  no  true  appreciation  of  nature's  beauties; 

"  Op.  cit.,  p.  129. 


on  the  contrary,  the  theory  expounded  by  Gervinus/^  Otfried 
Miiller/*'  Becker/^  and  even  Schiller^^  (to  the  effect  that 
Greek  nature-sense,  if  it  existed  at  all,  was  of  a  very  inferior 
order),  has  been  completely  overthrown  by  Biese,  who  points 
out  that  there  is  an  abundance  of  passages  in  Homer  which 
establish  the  fact  that  the  poet  was  keenly  alive  to  nature's 
aspects.  While  this  Homeric  appreciation  of  nature  appears 
naive  and  simple,  it  is  genuine  and  free  from  affectation.  It 
is  difficult  to  choose  from  the  numerous  passages  which  bear 
evidence  of  Homer's  feeling  for  nature.  However,  the  pas- 
sage which  is  quoted  below  is  a  fair  illustration  of  the  naive 
expression  of  awe  and  terror  which  the  raging  elements, 
mythologically  personified,  inspired  in  the  heart  of  primi- 
tive man  :^^ 

o)?  elirlov  crvvayev  vec^eXas,   irdpaie  8e  ttovtov 
^epcrt  rpiatvav  kXwv  •  Tracras  S'opd^uvev  deXAas 
iravTOLOiv  dvc/xcov,  (tvv  8e  ve<ji€t(J(Tt  KaXvif/€v 
yaiav  ofjiov  kuI  ttovtov  •  o/owpet  S'ovpavoOev  vvi. 
(TVV  8'  Eipos  Tc  NoTos  t'  €7reo"ov  Ze(j>vp6'i  re  8vcrar]<; 
Kol  Bo/aei^s  aldp-qyevirr]^  p.iya  Kvpu  kvXivSwv. 

2.  The  devout  reaction,  which  reveals  a  feeling  of  admi- 
ration or  awe  in  the  presence  of  nature  conceived  as  the  handi- 
work of  a  personal  God.  Such  is,  in  the  main,  the  character 
of  Hebrew  nature-poetry,  all  of  which  reflects  the  monotheistic 
idea.  For  the  Hebrew,  nature  is  not  an  end  per  se,  but  only 
a  means  to  an  end,  the  end  being  Jehovah.    Thus  the  psalmist  :-'* 

When  I  consider  Thy  heavens,  the  work  of  Thy  fingers,  the 
moon  and  the  stars,  which  Thou  hast  ordained;  What  is  man,  that 
Thou  art  mindful  of  him?  .  .  . 

It  cannot  be  said  that  the  ancient  Hebrew  was  unappreciative 
of  the  beauty  of  nature,  or  that  rigid  asceticism  smothered 
within  his  heart  the  typically  human  joie  dc  vivre:  he  lov^ed 

^^  Deutsche  Literaiurgcschichte,  Vol.  I,  p.  113. 

"  Handbuch  der  Archdologie  der  Kunst,  p.  468. 

"  Charikles,  I,  p.  219. 

"  Uber  naive  und  sentimentalische  Dichtung,  ed.  Cotta,  XII,  p.  187. 

'^^  Odyssey,  V,  291-296. 

^  Psalm  VlII,  3,  4. 


to  gaze  at  the  stars,  and  to  watch  the  birds;  the  grandeur  of 
the  sea  inspired  him  with  awe,  and  the  bright  sunshine  filled 
him  with  delight.  However,  he  forgot  at  no  time  to  associate 
with  his  realistic  enjoyment  the  ideal  which,  in  his  opinion, 
is  the  source  of  it  all.  Whether  we  may  speak  of  an  actual 
appreciation  and  enjoyment  of  nature  under  such  circum- 
stances, is  perhaps  doubtful,  for  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  that 
an  individual  who  is  constantly  endeavoring  to  locate  the 
source  of  a  pleasure  feels  as  keen  an  enjoyment  as  he  whose 
entire  nervous  sensitiveness  is  thrilled  with  the  actual  realisa- 
tion of  a  pleasurable  experience,  and  who  has,  consequently, 
no  thought  of  the  cause  of  his  sensation. 

It  is  interesting  to  observe  that  it  is  not  only  nature's  bounty 
which  suggests  to  the  Hebrew  the  thought  of  God,  but  that 
the  same  suggestion  comes  to  him  as  he  drags  his  tired  body 
over  the  hot  sands  of  the  desert,  and  as  he  is  near  death  from 
want  of  water.  Even  under  such  circumstances,  when  cursing 
and  disbelieving  would  be  quite  intelligible  from  a  human 
point  of  view,  the  weak  body  is  subdued  by  the  mind  concen- 
trated upon  God.    So  in  Psalm  LXVH,  where  David  sings : 

O  God,  Thou  art  my  God;  early  will  I  seek  Thee:  my  soul 
thirsteth  for  Thee,  my  flesh  longeth  for  Thee  in  a  dry  and  thirsty 
land,  where  no  water  is;  .  .  . 

An  appreciation  of  nature  apart  from  Jehovah  and  his  wor- 
ship is  therefore  not  to  be  expected  from  this  people  whose 
characteristic  attitude  the  psalmist  sums  up  as  follows  :-^ 

Be  Thou  exalted,  O  God,  above  the  heavens;  let  Thy  glory  be 
above  all  the  earth. 

3.  The  erotic  reaction,  that  is,  the  effect  produced  by  the 
spring-time  (nature's  pairing-time),  with  its  flowers,  birds  and 
sunshine,  with  its  suggestion  of  sexual  love  and  of  erotic 
images.  This  reaction  is  reflected  in  the  nature-poetry  of  the 
troubadours  and  minnesingers,  a  nature-poetry  where  nature 
is  the  means  and  love  the  end.  Bernart  de  Ventadorn,  for 
example,  tells  us  that  his  love  for  his  sweetheart  is  never  so 
deep  as  in  spring ;  he  takes  a  naive  delight  in  the  natural  beauty 

^  Psalm  LXVIII. 


which  surrounds  him,  but  he  does  not  describe  this  beauty  at 
length.  Using  a  few  terms,  such  as  grass,  fohage,  blossoms, 
and  nightingale,  he  hastens  on  as  it  were  to  his  subject  proper, 
viz.,  love.  The  lines  quoted  below  form  the  beginning  of  the 
poem,  and  the  inference  lies  near  that  nature  was  looked  upon 
as  the  most  fitting  background  for  love  and  as  a  good  intro- 
duction to  the  subject. 

Quant  I'erba  fresqu'  e.l  fuelha  par 
E  la  flors  botona  el  verian, 
E.l  rossinhols  autet  e  clar 
Leva  sa  votz  e  mou  son  chan, 
Joy  ai  de  luy  e  ioy  ai  de  la  flor 
E  ioy  de  me  e  de  mi  dous  maior;" 

The  poet  is  ready  to  express  his  appreciation  of  nature,  but 
nature  cannot  inspire  him  as  much  as  love ;  love  stands  higher 
in  his  esteem  than  nature,  and  nature  as  such  is  not  his  theme, 
as  the  following  lines  naively  admit : 

Dans  totas  partz  suy  de  ioy  claus  e  sens, 

Mas  sel  (i.  e.,  love)  es  ioys  que  totz  autres  ioys  vens," 

What  Diez  says-*  about  the  nature-poetry  of  the  troubadours, 
is  equally  true  of  the  minnesingers,  Walther  von  der  Vogel- 
weide  not  excepted.  The  greatest  lyric  poet  of  the  Middle 
Ages  deliberately  turns  his  back  on  nature  and  worships  at 
the  shrine  of  woman.     So  in  his  well-known  spring-song: 

Wir  lazen  alle  bluomen  stan  und  kapfen  an  das  werde  wip. 

It  is  true  that,  in  this  poem,  Walther  expresses  Bernart's 
thought  in  more  poetic  language,  but  the  fundamental  idea 
remains  the  same :  woman  is  looked  upon  as  the  ideal,  and 
nature  is  subordinated.  This  is,  therefore,  not  a  description 
of  nature  for  nature's  sake. 

4.  The  spiritistic  reaction,  showing  how  nature  was  con- 

^  Appel,  Provenzalische  Chrestomathie,  Leipzig,  1902,  p.  58. 

=«  Ibid. 

^^  Diez,  F.,  Die  Poesic  der  Troubadours,  Zwickau,  1826,  p.  123:  "The 
green  of  the  meadows  and  trees,  the  scent  of  flowers,  the  radiance  of  the 
sun,  the  song  of  the  birds,  form  the  sole  material  for  the  description  of 
nature,  and  not  once  has  this  material  been  used  for  painting  a  small,  clear 
picture,  but  all  appears  in  confusion  and  is,  in  reality,  barely  mentioned." 


6 

ceived  as  a  source  of  mysterious  oracles,  voices,  messages  (the 
echo,  the  wind,  the  murmuring  stream,  etc.),  which  speak  to 
man  with  a  more  or  less  definite  meaning  and  show  interest 
in  his  affairs.  This  reaction  is  largely  represented  by  the 
nature-poetry  of  the  Renaissance.  What  the  troubadours  and 
minnesingers  were  unable  to  accomplish  on  account  of  their 
lack  of  critical  consciousness,  that  was  now  made  possible 
through  the  resurrection  of  ancient  ideals.  The  appreciation 
of  nature's  sympathetic  message  and  appeals  to  her  for  assist- 
ance are  not  new:  the  three  classical  dramatists  of  antiquity — 
^schylus,  Sophocles,  Euripides — eloquently  express  their 
consciousness  of  nature's  sympathetic  power.  In  Sophocles' 
Philoctetes  nature  sympathetically  replies  through  the  mouth 
of  the  echo  to  Philoctetes,  who  is  left  alone  with  the  wild 
beasts  of  the  forest,  alone  with  his  misery  and  with  nature. 
This  incipient  demand  of  sympathy  and  compassion  brought 
man  and  nature  closer  together,  and  gave  rise,  at  the  same 
time,  to  a  longing  for  harmonious  union  with  nature,  the  pre- 
requisite for  which  is  solitude.  Passages  which  express  the 
longing  for  solitude  are  not  infrequent  in  the  works  of  the 
dramatic  trio,  and  Euripides'  melancholy  language  is  often  so 
strikingly  modern,  especially  because  of  the  sentimental  ele- 
ment which  it  contains  and  which  induces  Butcher-^  to  refer 
to  Euripides  as  "  the  fore-runner  of  modern  romanticism," 
that  one  is  often  reminded  of  recent  poetry.  It  is  quite  natural, 
therefore,  if  on  reading  Creusa's  words  in  Ion  (line  796)  : 

O  for  wings  to  cleave  the  liquid  air  beyond  the  land  of  Hellas, 
Away  to  the  Western  stars,  so  keen  the  anguish  of  my  soul ! 

Schiller's  familiar  words  suggest  themselves  :-^ 

Eilende  Wolken,  Segler  der  Liifte ! 

Wer  mit  euch  wanderte,  mit  euch  schiffte ! 

It  is  true  that  Greek  nature-poetry  lacked  the  conception 
of  nature  and  God  as  one,  and  the  profound  mysticism  of  the 
Romantic  School,  but  it  should  not  be  overlooked  that  there  is 
keen  and  genuine  appreciation  of  nature  expressed  through 

^  Some  Aspects  of  the  Greek  Genius^  p.  295. 
"^  Maria  Stuart,  III,  i. 


vivid  description  which  gradually  assumed  a  consciously  sub- 
jective and  strongly  emotional  character. 

Renaissance  nature-poetry  appears  at  its  best  in  landscape- 
paintings  which  are  of  a  more  individual  and  subjective  type 
even  than  those  of  the  Hellenic  Age.  The  solitude  of  nature 
is  now  consciously  sought  and  enjoyed,  and  there  arises  a 
sentimental  and  melancholy  nature-poetry  characterized  by  a 
fondness  for  ruins  and  graves,  which  has  its  foundation  in 
the  memory  of  ancient  legends  and  of  ancient  history. 

In  the  original  sense  of  the  term,  Petrarch  is  a  minnesinger, 
because  he  is  preeminently  a  poet  of  love.  But  while  Walther 
von  der  Vogelweide  regards  nature  only  as  an  intermediary, 
Petrarch  forms  so  close  an  association  of  the  concepts  nature 
and  love,  that  they  merge  into  one  another.  In  the  solitude 
of  nature  he  converses  with  his  beloved  Laura;  in  nature  he 
seeks  and  finds  solace  when  he  becomes  aware  that  there  will 
never  be  any  response  to  his  love ;  and  nature,  finally,  stays  his 
suicidal  hand.  Even  after  Laura's  death,  Petrarch  finds  in 
nature  the  needed  friend  who  mourns  with  him,  who  comforts 
and  sustains  him:-^ 

Per  alti  monti  e  per  selva  aspre  trovo 
Qualche  riposo;  ogni  abitato  loco 
E  nemico  mortal  degli  occhi  miei. 
A  ciascun  passo  nasce  un  pensier  novo 
Delia  mia  donna,  che  sorente  in  gioco 
Gira'l  tormento  ch'i'  porto  per  lei. 

The  great  nature-poet  of  the  Renaissance  is  Shakespeare, 
whose  work  abundantly  illustrates  all  the  types  of  nature- 
feeling  hitherto  considered.  So  true  is  this,  and  so  well- 
known,  that  quotation  appears  unnecessary.  Indeed  it  would 
be  a  bold  thesis  to  maintain  that  there  is  any  type  of  nature- 
feeling  known  to  the  modern  man  which  is  not  expressed,  or 
at  least  adumbrated,  somewhere  in  the  works  of  Shakespeare. 

A  nature-poetry  such  as  Shakespeare's  can  be  compared  only 
with  most  recent  productions  in  this  field,  and  even  then  it 
must  be  emphasized  that  but  ver}'  few  poets  come  into  con- 

^  Canzone,  XIII. 


sideration  as  his  competitors,  perhaps  only  Goethe,  Byron  and 
Shelley.-^ 

5.  The  anti-social  or  misanthropic  reaction,  showing 
the  conception  of  nature  as  a  safe  refuge  from  man's  incon- 
stancy, from  the  vice  and  corruption  of  the  city,  from  the  evils 
of  civilization,  and  from  the  cruelty  and  injustice  of  human 
society.  As  I  have  already  observed,  a  phase  of  this  feeling 
is  found  in  the  Greek  poetry  of  solitude.  One  is  also  re- 
minded of  Horace  and  his  Sabine  farm,  remote  from  the  bad- 
ness of  the  Roman  civium  prava  iubentium.  We  often  meet 
it  also  in  Shakespeare,  more  especially  perhaps  in  his  romantic 
comedies.  Take  for  example  these  verses  from  Two  Gentle- 
men of  Verona:-^ 

How  use  doth  breed  a  habit  in  a  man ! 
The  shadowy  desert,  unfrequented  woods, 
I  better  brook  than  flourishing  peopled  towns ; 
Here  can  I  sit  alone,  unseen  of  any, 
And,  to  the  nightingale's  complaining  notes. 
Tune  my  distresses  and  record  my  woes. 

In  the  eighteenth  century,  however,  the  feeling  comes  into 
literature  in  a  more  intense  form,  expressing  not  so  much  a 
pure  love  of  nature  or  of  solitude  as  a  passionate  aversion  to 
the  works  and  ways  of  the  civilized  man.  The  herald  of  this 
new  feeling — so  far  as  it  is  new — was  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau 
who  was,  to  some  extent  at  least,  indebted  to  England.  Upon 
his  return  from  his  idyllic  sojourn  at  Chambery  and  Les 
Charmettes,  he  studied  zealously  the  descriptive  nature-poetry 
of  Pope,  Thomson  and  Young,  but  his  inborn  love  for  nature 
carried  him  far  beyond  any  of  his  predecessors.  For  Rousseau 
there  was  no  happiness  without  nature :  life  in  Paris,  with  all 
the  attractions  which  civilization  and  culture  could  offer  was 
loathsome  to  him.  In  the  Ermitage,  near  Montmorency,  to 
which  he  had  fled,  he  felt  at  home,  surrounded  by  living  forms 
of  his  own  imagination.  Rousseau's  important  position  in  the 
history  of  nature-poetry  is  due  to  the  fact  that  he  sees  in 
nature  the  primeval  and  universal  Good  which  the  badness  of 
man  had  debased.    It  is  true  that  Rousseau's  standpoint  is  still 

^  Biese,  p.  224.  ^  Act  V,  Sc.  4. 


theistic,  in  so  far  as  God  is  proclaimed  as  nature's  creator,  but 
we  find  here,  nevertheless,  the  beginning  of  a  pantheistic 
idealization  of  nature,  which  culminates  in  Goethe.  Atheism 
is  incomprehensible  to  Rousseau,  for  the  very  reason  that  all 
nature  represents  to  him  a  grand  revelation  of  God.  Those 
who  live  amidst  the  wonders  of  nature  cannot  be  without 
faith :  "  Je  comprends  comment  les  habitants  des  villes  qui  ne 
voient  que  des  murs,  des  rues  et  des  crimes,  ont  peu  de  foi ; 
mais  je  ne  puis  comprendre  comment  des  campagnards,  et 
surtout  des  solitaires,  peuvent  n'en  point  avoir."^*'  Rundstrom^^ 
well  characterises  the  difference  between  Rousseau  and  the 
theists,  by  pointing  out  that  Rousseau  needs  no  demonstration 
of  God,  since  he  knows  that  God  exists.  Expressed  in  other 
words,  this  means  that,  to  the  theist,  God  represents  an  idea; 
to  Rousseau,  however,  God  is  a  fact.  And  this  fact  is  always 
before  him,  always  within  his  reach :  nature  reveals  the  god- 
head. 

The  exalted  rank  which  Rousseau  assigns  to  nature  makes 
a  nature-worship  possible,  and  nature-worship  presupposes 
intimate  association  with  nature.  Hence  Rousseau's  constant 
desire  which,  when  granted,  is  the  cause  of  "  inexpressible 
rapture,"  to  "  s'identifier  avec  la  nature  entiere.''^-  Only  in 
solitude  is  he  able  thoroughly  to  appreciate  the  grandeur  of 
nature,  because  only  when  absolutely  undisturbed  is  it  possible 
for  him  to  concentrate  his  thoughts  upon  so  lofty  a  subject. 
Thus  he  flees  civilization  and  turns  to  nature,  and  when  the 
last  obstacle  between  himself  and  God  is  removed,  he  kneels  in 
adoration  in  the  temple  which  the  Lord  has  erected  for  Him- 
self: "Je  n'ai  jamais  aime  a  prier  dans  la  chambre;  il  me 
semble  que  les  murs  et  tous  ces  petits  ouvrages  des  hommcs 
s'interposent  entre  Dieu  et  moi.  J'aime  a  le  contempler  dans 
ses  oeuvres  tandis  que  mon  coeur  s'eleve  a  lui.^^ 

It  must  not  be  overlooked  that  Rousseau  was  a  true  son  of 
his  century,  "  whose  very  nature-sense  does  not  fail  to  reveal 
the  foundation  of  a  morbid  disposition  which  may  be  analyzed 
as   Wcltschmers,   Weltfiucht,  misanthropy,  or  melancholia."^* 

^  Rousseau,  ed.  Hachette,  IX,  p.  72.     ^  P.  56. 

^-Rousseau,  IX,  p.  376.  ^Rousseau,  VIII,  p.  169. 

"  Biese,  p.  358. 


10 

Rousseau  changed  the  direction  of  the  current  of  nature-poetry, 
but  it  remained  for  Goethe  to  change  the  current  itself.  This 
new  current  is 

6.  The  pantheistic  reaction,  representing  the  identifica- 
tion of  nature  with  the  godhead.  Nature  is  conceived  as 
omnipresent  divinity  speaking  to  the  human  soul,  not  with 
separate  and  localized  voices,  but  as  a  totality. 

In  the  inimitable  scene  where  Gretchen  appears  so  sweetly 
and  naively  concerned  in  guiding  her  lover  back  to  the  path  of 
orthodox  Catholicism,  Faust  relieves  her  tender  anxiety  by 
dwelling  at  length  upon  his  religious  feeling ;  and  so  convincing 
is  the  expression  of  his  pantheism,  so  close  is  the  adaptation 
of  his  own  lofty  ideas  to  the  unconsciously  narrow  boundaries 
of  Margaret's  religious  tolerance,  that  she  is  forced  to  admit: 
"  Ungefahr  sagt  das  der  Pfarrer  auch."  The  passage  in 
question  is  so  well-known  that  it  may  suffice  to  quote  its  last 
summarizing  lines : 

Erfiiir  davon  dein  Herz,  so  gross  es  ist, 
Und  wenn  du  ganz  in  dem  Gefiihle  selig  hist, 
Nenn'  es  dann,  wie  du  willst, 
Nenn's  Gliick !  Herz  !  Liebe  !  Gott ! 
Ich  babe  keinen  Namen 
Daf iir !  Gefiihl  ist  alles; 
Name  ist  Schall  und  Ranch, 
Umnebelnd  Himmelsglut. 

Special  emphasis  must  here  be  placed  upon  the  words  Gefi'ilil 
ist  alles,  for  therein  consists  the  very  essence  of  the  youthful 
Goethe's  message.  For  Goethe  life  is  feeling,  and  feeling 
comes  through  nature,  so  that  direct  communion  with  nature 
becomes  a  necessity  for  human  existence.  That  is  the  reason 
why  Goethe,  as  Robert  Saitschick  puts  it,^^  "  could  grasp  only 
that  philosophy  which  establishes  and  intensifies  our  inborn 
feeling  that  we  are  one  with  nature ;  a  philosophy  which  trans- 
forms this  feeling  into  profound  and  calm  contemplation,  in 
whose  perpetual  syncrisis  and  diacrisis  we  recognise  a  godly 
life."  That  is  why  all  the  works  of  Goethe  bear  the  stamp  of 
that  vitality  which  can  only  spring  from  real  life  and  from 
nature. 

^  Goethes  Charaktcr,  Stuttgart,  1898,  p.  119. 


11 

As  for  the  N aturschivdrmerei  of  Werther,  it  has  been  so  well 
analyzed  by  Laprade,^**  Erich  Schmidt^''  and  Biese,^^  that  any 
further  attempt  in  that  direction  appears  useless.  A  remark 
may  be  made,  however,  on  the  difference  between  Werther  and 
the  Nouvelle  Helo'ise.  While  in  Rousseau's  work  nature  occu- 
pies a  secondary  position,  serving  the  purpose  of  a  suitable 
background,  Goethe  connects  nature  directly  with  every  im- 
pulse and  act  of  young  Werther,  and  he  drops  entirely  the  con- 
trast between  civilization  and  nature  which  is  so  strongly 
emphasized  by  Rousseau.  On  the  other  hand,  with  Goethe 
nature  no  longer  appears  as  the  reflection  of  the  godhead,  but 
as  God  Himself.  Conventionality  and  unnatural  affection,  in 
short  all  that  may  be  gathered  together  in  the  one  term  Zopf, 
is  entirely  foreign  to  Werther.  Like  Rousseau,  Werther  is 
passionately  fond  of  solitude,  but  he  is  not  a  misanthrope.  He 
speaks  to  nature,  and  nature  replies.  He  feels  nature  as  love. 
There  exist  between  nature  and  Werther  unbreakable  bonds  of 
sympathy  which  lead  to  the  well-defined  reflex  action :  "  Wie 
die  Natur  sich  zum  Herbste  neigt,  wird  es  Herbst  in  mir  und 
um  mich  her.  Meine  Blatter  werden  gelb,  und  schon  sind  die 
Blatter  der  benachbarten  Baume  abge fallen."  ^^  Biese  justly 
remarks*"  that  Werther's  feeling  for  nature  rests  upon  the 
foundation  of  poetic  pantheism. 

There  remains  only  a  word  to  be  said  here  with  regard  to 
the  evolution  of  the  interpretation  of  nature  within  Goethe 
himself.  I  borrow  for  this  purpose  the  language  of  R.  M. 
Meyer,*^  who  so  clearly  defines  the  various  stages :  "  For  the 
illusionist  Werther,  nature  was  the  sacred,  pure,  world-foreign 
and  inapproachable  maiden ;  for  the  maturing  disciple  of  Char- 
lotte von  Stein,  the  all-providing,  all-loving,  indefatigable 
mother;  for  the  author  of  Tasso  and  Iphlgenia,  the  ruling 
all-powerful  queen ;  for  the  poet  in  old  age,  the  only  adorable 
goddess : 

Werde  jeder  bessere  Sinn 

Dir  zum  Dienst  erbotig! 

Jungfrau,  Mutter,  Konigin, 

Gottin,  bleibe  gnadig! 

''  Op.  cit.,  pp.  323,  336,  346.  ^  Op.  Cit.,  pp.  173  ff, 

^  Op.  cit.,  pp.  380  ff.  =»  Ed.  Hempel,  XIV,  p.  83. 

""P.  387.  *"  Goethe,  ■p.  S76. 


12 

7-  The  romantic  reaction,  consisting  of  two  distinct  cur- 
rents: (a)  the  largely  sentimental  feeling  for  nature  shown 
especially  by  the  older  members  of  the  Romantic  School  and 
well  exemplified  in  Stolberg's 

Siisse,  heilige  Natur, 

Lass  mich  gehn  auf  deiner  Spur, 

and  (b)  the  feeling  of  wild  delight  in  nature's  destructive  and 
terrible  aspects,  such  as  the  storm  at  sea,  the  cyclone  in  the 
woods. 

Music  and  nature  are  the  passions  of  Romanticism,  and, 
of  the  earlier  Romantic  poets,  Tieck  and  Novalis  best  reveal 
the  truth  of  such  a  statement.  Grillparzer,  as  an  interpreter 
of  the  musical  element  in  nature,  is  greatly  indebted  to  the 
Romantic  School,  and  there  is  many  a  passage  in  Grillparzer's 
sympathetic  nature-poetry  which  reminds  one  vividly  of  such 
words  as  those  uttered  by  Tieck's  Franz  Sternhald: 

Ich  mochte  die  ganze  Welt  mit  Liebesgesangen  durchstromen, 
den  Mondschimmer  und  die  Morgenrote  anrtihren,  dass  sie  mein 
Laid  und  Gliick  wiederklingen,  dass  die  Melodie  Baume,  Zweige, 
Blatter  und  Graser  ergreife,  damit  alle  spielend  meinen  Gesang  wie 
mit  Millionen  Zungen  wiederholen  miissten. 

What  I  have  called  the  second  phase  of  the  romantic  reac- 
tion is  illustrated  in  a  well-known  passage  of  Faust: 

Und  wenn  der  Sturm  im  Walde  braust  und  knarrt, 
Die  Riesenfichte  stiirzend  Nachbaraste 
Und  Nachbarstamme  quetschend  nieder  streift, 
Und  ihrem  Fall  dumpf  hohl  der  Hiigel  donnert; 
Dann  fiihrst  du  mich  zur  sichern  Hohle,  zeigst 
Mich  dann  mir  selbst,  und  meiner  eignen  Brust 
Geheime  tiefe  Wunder  ofifnen  sich. 

Among  the  English  Romanticists  who  were  contemporary  with 
Grillparzer,  this  feeling  is  expressed  most  frequently  by  Lord 
Byron.  The  following  passages  from  Childe  Harold  are  char- 
acteristic : 

Dear  Nature  is  the  kindest  mother  still, 
Though  always  changing,  in  her  aspect  mild; 
From  her  bare  bosom  let  me  take  my  fill. 


13 

Her  never-wean'd,  though  not  her  favour'd  child. 

Oh !  She  is  fairest  in  her  features  wild, 

Where  nothing  polish'd  dares  pollute  her  path; 

To  me  by  day  or  night  she  ever  smiled, 

Though  I  have  marked  her  when  none  other  hath, 

And  sought  her  more  and  more,  and  loved  her  best  in  wrath.^ 

And  then,  Canto  III,  92,  93: 

The  sky  is  changed ! — and  such  a  change !  O  night. 
And  storm,  and  darkness,  ye  are  wondrous  strong, 
Yet  lovely  in  your  strength,  as  in  the  light 
Of  a  dark  eye  in  woman !     Far  along. 
From  peak  to  peak,  the  rattling  crags  among, 
Leaps  the  live  thunder!     Not  from  one  lone  cloud, 
But  every  mountain  now  hath  found  a  tongue, 
And  Jura  answers  through  her  misty  shroud. 
Back  to  the  joyous  Alps,  who  call  to  her  aloud! 

And  this  is  in  the  night: — Most  glorious  Night! 
Thou  wert  not  sent  for  slumber!     Let  me  be 
A  sharer  in  thy  fierce  and  far  delight, — 
A  portion  of  the  tempest  and  of  thee!  .  .  . 

"  Canto,  II,  37. 


II 

Grillparzer's  Description  of  Nature 

In  his  description  of  nature  Grillparzer  often  animadverts 
on  the  relation  between  nature  and  man.  Both  nature  and 
man,  the  "king  of  creation,"  are  subject  to  law  and  order,  and 
neither  nature  nor  man  exists  without  purpose.  Nature,  how- 
ever, is  subject  to  her  own  laws  which  man,  also,  must  obey. 
This  law  of  nature  surrounds  man  like  an  invisible  net  from 
which  there  is  no  escape,  and  the  transgression  of  which  means 
death  and  destruction.  Man  is  well  aware  of  the  existence  of 
this  law,  but  he  is  unable  to  comprehend  it,  for  in  spite  of  all 
the  knowledge  he  boasts,  he  is  a  king  without  sceptre:  he  sits 
upon  the  throne  of  creation,  but  nature  rules.  In  the  poem 
of  1842  Wie  viel  weisst  du,  0  Metisch,  der  Schopfung  Konig,^ 
Grillparzer  sets  forth  this  idea  with  considerable  sarcasm. 
But  this  is  not  the  only  place  where  one  may  find  a  recognition 
of  the  exalted  position  of  nature,  mingled  with  sarcastic,  pessi- 
mistic reflections  on  the  physical  and  mental  imperfections  of 
man.  So,  for  example,  in  the  poem  Pflanzenwelt,^  the  poet 
shows  that  nature,  conscious  of  her  purpose,  follows  gladly 
the  outlined  paths,  and  is  satisfied  with  her  lot,  while  man — 
shiftless  and  malcontent — might  learn  a  valuable  lesson  from 
trees  and  flowers.  A  melancholy  note  is  sounded  in  the  poem 
Im  Gewdchshaus/  where  Grillparzer  laments  the  brevity  of 
human  life,  in  contrast  with  the  permanency  of  nature : 

Aloe!  Aloe! 

Bliihest  so  schon. 

Aber  nur  einmal  in  Menschengedenken, 

Aloe ! 

Wir  leben  nur  eines, 

Ein  einziges  Menschengedenken. 

Wenn  die  erste  Bliite  voriiber, 

*n,  p.  55-  "I,  p.  175-  ^Ibid. 

14 


15 

Aloe,  Aloe  ! 

Wo  Zeit  fiir  die  zweite? 

Nature  is  looked  upon  by  Grillparzer  as  perfect,  while  man 
is  imperfect;  nature  is  permanent,  man  is  transitory;  nature 
follows  and  reaches  her  aim,  man  wavers,  stumbles  and  falls. 
Man  is  in  need  of  nature's  assistance  and  sympathy,  and  both 
are  granted  him:  nature  loves  man  (the  relation  between  the 
two  is  that  of  parent  to  child),  and  man  returns  this  love. 
Gradually,  as  his  appreciation  and  gratitude  mature,  he  sinks 
into  nature's  wide-open  arms,  finding  comfort  and  compassion. 
In  unity  with  nature  man  finds  strength,  and  by  conforming 
to  her  laws,  he  may  be  able  to  increase  his  vitality.  Hence 
the  confident  words  of  Rudolf  in  the  Brudcr'^zi'ist:^ 

Mein  Haus  wird  bleiben  immerdar  .  .  . 

.  .  .  well  es,  einig  mit  dem  Geist  des  All, 

Durch  Klug  und  scheinbar  Unklug,  rasch  und  zogernd, 

Den  Gang  nachahmt  der  ewigen  Natur,  .  .  . 

Turning  now  from  the  general  to  the  particular,  let  us  first 
take  up  the  poetry  of  the  seasons.  Naturally  Spring  plays  the 
most  important  role.  The  arrival  of  spring  is  beautifully 
described  in  a  poem  by  that  title. ^  The  cries  of  the  cuckoo 
herald  the  approach  of  the  fairest  season  of  the  year,  and  by 
means  of  a  play  upon  the  word  Kukuck,  which  the  poet 
changes  to  Guck,  guck!,  the  birds'  surprise  and  pleasure  are 
cleverly  drawn.  The  melting  snow  is  likened  to  white 
draperies,  which  a  servant  now  proceeds  to  remove  from  the 
furniture  in  the  house,  while  another  attendant  is  busy  spread- 
ing magnificent  rugs,  for  which  the  blossoming  trees  have 
furnished  the  material.  This  exquisite  picture,  over  which  the 
golden  gate-keeper  (the  sun)  is  pouring  floods  of  light,  is 
made  alive — like  fine  scenery  on  a  modern  stage  by  the  sweet 
notes  of  a  well-trained  voice — by  the  clever  little  orchestra  of 
nature  which  always  plays  in  harmony,  even  if  no  rehearsals 
have  been  held.  Slowly,  and  with  dignity,  the  stranger  now 
approaches,  and  while  the  orchestra  is  playing  a  joyous  tune 
of  welcome,  while  sweet  little  flowers  are  crowding  both  sides 
of  the  path  over  which  he  must  come,  while  all  nature  rejoices 

*  IX,  p.  67.  ^  Fruhliiigskommen,  I,  p.  210. 

3 


16 

in  anxious  anticipation,  the  king  now  takes  possession  of  his 
kingdom.  The  heart  of  the  poet  is  touched:  the  universal 
rejoicing  communicates  itself  to  his  muse,  and  thus  spring  is 
also  for  him  a  source  of  blessing:  new  life  and  new  vigor 
follow  in  the  wake  of  the  "  king." 

Pull  of  charming  details  referring  to  spring,  though  its  con- 
clusion breathes  pessimism  and  despair,  is  the  poem  Als  mein 
Schreibpult  zersprang.^    All  nature  longs  for  Spring: 

Und  des  Friihlings  Kuss  entgegen 
Dehnt,  erwacht,  sich  Zweig  und  Ast. 

But  not  only  the  trees  in  the  forest  experience  this  conscious 
longing,  even  the  wood,  which  has  long  since  ceased  to  be  part 
of  a  tree,  and  which  man  has  already  turned  to  his  own  pur- 
poses, is  affected  by  the  powerful  influence  of  spring,  and 
makes  a  last  though  futile  effort  to  grow  and  sprout.  Grill- 
parzer  also  feels  the  potent  forces  of  rejuvenating  spring  act- 
ing upon  him ;  he,  too,  makes  an  effort  to  produce  and  bear : 
a  new  enthusiasm,  fanned  by  spring  breezes,  seems  to  awaken 
in  him,  but  it  proves  to  be  nothing  but  the  last  rally,  which  is 
immediately  followed  by  death : 

Und  mein  Busen  drangt  und  hebt  sich; 
Doch,  nicht  fahig  mehr  zu  griinen, 
Achzt  er  laut  auf  und — zerbirst. 

The  pessimism  of  these  lines,  which  date  from  the  year  1813, 
is  a  reflex  of  unhappy  moods  and  experiences  which  caused 
Grillparzer  to  despair,  for  a  while,  of  his  poetic  talent. 

Grillparzer  regards  spring  as  nature's  youth.  Youth  is  a 
formative  period,  a  period  of  hope  and  of  enjoyment.  In  Fur 
ein  sechzehnjdhnges  Mddchen'^  the  poet  advises  the  maid  to 
make  the  best  of  her  youth.  He  writes  these  lines  in  the  month 
of  May,  the  fairest  of  the  whole  year,  and  compares  the  short 
duration  of  spring  beauty  with  the  few  months  of  pleasure,  of 
youth,  which  are  still  in  store  for  the  maiden  of  sweet  sixteen. 
Soon  this  happy  time  will  be  behind  her,  and  the  serious  duties 
awaiting  her  as  wife  and  mother  will  tax  her  strength  and 
occupy  her  time.     Spring  is  but  brief,  and  summer,  autumn, 

'11,  p.  II.  Mil,  p.  52. 


17 

winter  will  follow  in  rapid  succession.  Be  happy  then  while 
nature  herself  rejoices.  Enjoy  life  while  you  are  young:  Dunt 
loquimiir,  fugerit  invida  Adas;  carpe  diem!^  Or,  in  Grill- 
parzer's  language : 

Flattre,  bunter  Sommervogel, 
Sonnenwend'  ist  bald  vorbei  .  .  . 
Flattre!     Denn  noch  ist  der  Mai. 

Optimism  and  hope  thus  lie  in  the  words  of  Bertha,^  who 
looks  forward  with  pleasure  to  the  approach  of  May, 

Wo  das  Feld  sich  kleidet  neu, 
Wo  die  Liifte  sanfter  wehen 
Und  die  Blumen  auferstehen. 

On  the  other  hand,  when  Graf  Borotin  complains^"  of  the 
difficulty  which  he  experiences  in  giving  up,  one  by  one,  all 
the  fair  hopes  "  In  der  Jugend  Lenz  empfangen,"  we  have  to 
deal  with  one  of  Grillparzer's  personal  pessimistic  reflections 
where  Youth-Spring,  and  Old-Age-Winter,  are  mournfully 
contrasted. 

In  another  part  of  the  Ahnfrau^'^  Bertha  compares  the  feel- 
ing of  hope,  which  begins  gradually  to  fill  her  heart,  with  the 
effect  of  "  Spring's  soothing  finger,"  which  removes  the  dark 
envelope  from  the  tender  germ,  and,  likewise,  in  the  poem 
Der  Genesene,^-  the  hopeful  attitude  toward  life,  upon  the 
recovery  from  an  illness,  is  likened  to  the  awakening  and  to 
the  productive  power  of  spring: 

Und  als  ob  der  Lenz  erwache 
All  mit  seiner  Freuden  Chor, 
Treibt  es  nach  der  langen  Brache 
Griine   Spitzen  neu  hervor. 

But  spring  means  more  to  Grillparzer  than  only  youth  and 
hope.  Linked  with  these  two  characteristics  is  the  direct  influ- 
ence which  spring  exerts  upon  the  human  heart  by  fostering 
love.  The  beauty  of  nature,  at  this  particular  time  of  the 
year,  is  a  powerful  stimulus  to  passion,  but  our  poet  never 

'Horace,  Odes,  I,  ii.  ^  Ahnfran,  IV,  p.  16. 

"IV,  p.  49.  "IV,  p.  124. 

"I,  p.  139. 


18 

so  directly  associates  spring  with  love,  as  the  minnesingers  are 
wont  to  do.  Love,  according  to  Grillparzer,  may  be  inspired 
by  nature's  beauty  at  any  time,  although  spring,  which  means 
hope,  is,  perhaps,  the  most  favorable  period.  This  idea  is 
expressed  in  the  poem  Intermezzo  :^^  in  the  month  of  May, 
when  the  flowers  bloom  and  when  the  sweet  melodies  of  the 
forest  birds  resound,  love  investigates  if  the  natural  condi- 
tions are  favorable : 

Da  hebt  sich  eine  Scholle, 
Die  Liebe  lauscht  hervor, 
Ob  noch  der  Winter  grolle, 
Noch  laut  der  Stiirme  Chor  ? 

This  sounds,  perhaps,  as  if  love  had  been  asleep  throughout 
the  long  winter  months.  However,  this  is  not  so :  love  is  like 
a  tender  flower,  unable  to  endure,  unprotected,  the  hardships 
of  cold;  and  like  a  flower  it  demands  to  be  cherished  and 
nursed.  The  sheltering  roof  of  man  affords  ample  protection 
during  the  cold  season,  and  thus  we  read,  in  the  last  stanza : 

Doch  friert  es  etwa  nachtig, 
Sucht  sic  der  Menschen  Dach 
Und  schiirt  ein  Feuer  machtig 
Im  jungen  Herzen  wach. 

The  beauty  of  the  description  of  spring  and  love  is  intensi- 
fied by  the  introduction  of  the  musical  element  to  which  the 
Romantic  School  paid  marked  attention.  The  music  of  love, 
its  wonderful  crescendo,  its  resounding  forte,  fortissimo,  and 
its  gradual  decrescendo,  piano,  pianissimo,  and  final  morente, 
is  alluded  to  in  a  glowing  tribute  to  the  nightingale,  the  song- 
bird of  love.  The  lines  in  question  form  the  last  stanza  of 
the  poem  Mistress  Shazn':^^ 

Da  tont  vom  Busch  ein  Laut  der  Wunderkehle, 

Es  steigt  und  schwillt,  klingt  nach,  verhallt  und  stirbt. 

Hab  Dank,  du  Zauberin,  o  Philomela, 

In  die  verloren,  man  sich  selbst  erwirbt. 

Apart  from  those  pessimistic  references  which  we  attributed 
to  unfortunate  circumstances  in  the  poet's  life,  Grillparzer's 

''  I,  p.  223.  "  II,  p.  46. 


19 

description  of  spring  is  altogether  joyous.  It  is  his  constant 
endeavor  to  bring  out  the  loveliness  of  the  season,  and  to 
show  its  manifold  aspects.  He  succeeds  well,  and  his  success 
seems  to  be  due  to  the  fact  that  he  is  well  able  to  gather  the 
various  details  together  into  one  picture,  where  excessive  in- 
tensity of  light  is  artistically  avoided  by  the  use  of  well-dis- 
tributed shadow.  It  is  with  interest  that  we  watch  the  painter 
Grillparzer  at  work.  Touch  after  touch  we  see  him  make 
upon  the  canvas  with  his  saturated  colors,  and,  at  last,  perhaps 
only  in  one  line,  he  makes  reference  to  the  effect.  One  of  the 
best  pictures  of  this  kind,  in  which  I  fail  to  find  the  lack  of 
warmth  and  color  for  which  Grillparzer's  lyric  efforts  have 
been  criticised,  may  be  quoted  in  conclusion.  The  words  are 
Publipor's  in  Spartakus:^'' 

Wie  wenn  des  jungen  Friihlings  lauer  Finger 

Den  Schnee  streift  von  der  Erde  starren  Gliedern, 

Das  Gras  hervortritt  aus  der  Winterhiille, 

Der  Rose  zarte  Wangen  siiss  erroten, 

Die  blauen  Glocklein  holde  Freude  tonen, 

Die  Knospe  auszieht  ihren  rauhen  Pelz, 

Des  Bachleins  Wellen  durch  die  Wiesen  hiipfen, 

Und  alles  lebt  und  atmet  und  sich  freut. 

Summer,  it  appears,  appeals  to  Grillparzer's  nature-sense 
most  effectively  at  night,  but  his  descriptions  of  summer  seem 
few  among  the  numerous  references  to  other  phases  of  nature. 
A  touch  of  weariness  and  languor  rests  upon  the  few  passages 
that  deal  with  this  subject.  Exhausted  from  the  heat  of  day, 
nature  enjoys  the  refreshing  breezes  of  a  summer-night,  and 
man  seeks  comfort  in  cooling  waves.  So  says  Hero  in  Des 
Meeres  und  der  Liehe  Wellen:^^ 

Wo,  wie  der  Mensch,  der,  miid  am  Sommerabend, 
Vom  Ufer  steigt  ins  weiche  Wellcnbad 
Und,  von  dem  lauen  Strome  rings  umfangen. 
In  gleicher  Warme  seine  Glieder  breitet,  .  .  . 

The  balmy  air  and  the  inebriating  fragrance  of  a  multitude 
of  blossoms  increase  the  languor  of  the  senses,  and  so,  gradu- 
ally, lead  to  self-oblivion.     Nothing  disturbs  the  holy  com- 

^=XI,  p.  134.  "IV,  p.  12. 


20 

munion  with  nature,  and  even  the  melancholy  vibrating  notes 
of  the  lute,  luring  like  the  voice  of  the  nightingale,  add  to  the 
scene  of  universal  repose  and  peace:  the  air  listens,  and  the 
foliage  ceases  to  stir  because  of  the  lack  of  wind  :^' 

Hab'  ich's  euch  doch  schon  erzahlet, 
Wie  in  einer  Sommernacht 
Ich  dort  in  dem  nahen  Walde 
Mich  lustwandelnd  einst  erging 
Und,  vom  Schmeichelhauch  der  Liifte, 
Von  dem  Duft  der  tausend  Bluten 
Eingelullt  in  siiss  Vergessen, 
Waiter  ging  als  je  zuvor. 
Wie  mit  einmal  durch  die  Naclit 
Einer  Laute  Klang  erwacht, 
Klagend,  stohnend,  Mitleid  flehend, 
Mit  der  Tonkunst  ganzer  Macht, 
Girrend  bald  gleich  zarten  Tauben 
Durch  die  dichtverschlungnen  Lauben, 
Bald  mit  langgedehntem  Schall 
Lockend  gleich  der  Nachtigall, 
Dass  die  Liifte  schweigend  horchten 
Und  das  Laub  der  regen  Espe 
Seine  Regsamkeit  vergass. 

The  almost  total  neglect  of  autumn  in  Grillparzer's  treat- 
ment of  the  seasons  is  characteristic.  Is  this  due  to  the  fact 
that  he  does  not  care  for  autumn,  or  that  he  attributes  but 
little  importance  to  this  season?  Neither  one  nor  the  other 
can  be  true,  because  so  careful  an  observer  of  nature  as  Grill- 
parzer  does  not  fail  to  appreciate  the  charm  of  an  autumnal 
landscape ;  nor  is  there  any  reference  to  autumn  which  implies 
that  the  poet  regards  this  season  as  inferior  to  spring,  summer 
and  winter.  The  fact  is  that  Grillparzer's  Hcrbststiiinnung 
is  somber,  because  autumn  heralds  the  approach  of  winter, 
which  he  dreads.  The  realisation  of  the  impending  necessity 
of  destruction  is  keener  than  the  pleasure  to  be  derived  from 
an  autumnal  landscape,  and,  it  is  interesting  to  note,  the  out- 
look into  the  future  is  more  painful  to  the  poet  than  the  actual 
experience  proves  to  be  later,  when  the  dreaded  future  has 

'^'^  Ahnfrau,  IV,  p,  21. 


come.  Death  itself  has  no  horrors  for  Grillparzer,  but  the 
gradual  and  inevitable  process  of  dissolution  preparatory  to 
ultimate  chaos  deeply  affects  him.  The  leaves  which  are  blown 
from  the  trees  in  autumn  storms  are  called  "  sommersatt "  in 
the  poem  Ein  Herbstblatt,^^  and  this  one  word  characterizes 
Grillparzer's  attitude  toward  autumn,  and  explains,  perhaps, 
his  preference  for  winter :  all  excesses  lead  to  disease,  and 
disease  is  ultimately  fatal.  This  condition  gives  rise  to  a 
melancholy  sensation  in  the  poet,  and  may  even  go  so  far  as 
to  become  unbearable  and  repulsive  to  him. 

How  different  is  the  exhilarating  atmosphere  with  which 
we  meet  in  the  poem  Dezembcrlicd}^  Winter,  the  poet  argues, 
deprives  nature  of  a  great  deal,  but  the  loss  on  one  side  is 
compensated  by  the  gain  on  the  other.  This  observation  is 
then  followed  by  a  comparison  of  the  two  great  extremes, 
winter  and  spring: 

Eis  dein  Schmuck  und  fallend  Laub 

Deine  Schmetterlinge. 

Rabe  deine  Nachtigall, 

Schnee  dein  Bliitenstauben; 

Deine  Bkmien,  traurig  all, 

Auf  gefrornen  Scheiben. 

A  slight  vibration  of  melancholy  is  perceivable  also  in  this 
passage,  but  we  can  hardly  expect  anything  else  when  falling 
leaves  and  butterflies,  raven  and  nightingale,  snow  and  the 
rain  of  blossoms,  etc.,  are  considered  side  by  side.  It  is  in 
this  very  contrast  that  I  find  the  beauty  of  the  description :  the 
attributes  of  nature  are  vastly  different  in  spring  and  in 
winter,  but  Grillparzer  substitutes  the  attributes  of  the  latter 
for  those  of  the  former.  Another  note  of  appreciation  rings 
through  the  subsequent  stanzas,  where  the  beneficent  influence 
of  the  retreat  to  the  fireside,  in  winter,  is  mentioned.  For 
man  in  general,  and  for  the  poet  in  particular,  one  of  the 
effects  of  this  season  is  of  utmost  importance : 

Sammlung,  jene  Gotterbraut, 

Mutter  alles  Grossen, 

Steigt  herab  auf  deinen  (Winter's)  Laut 

Scgciiilhcrgosscn. 

"Ill,  p.  48.  "I,  p.  157. 


22 

This  is  why  Grillparzer  cannot  understand  the  disrespectful 
epithet  Wilrger  by  which  winter  is  sometimes  designated.  He, 
on  the  contrary,  bids  him  welcome;  he  looks  far  beneath  the 
surface,  and  expresses  the  result  of  his  examination  with  the 
appreciative  words : 

Und  die  Winter  der  Natur 
Sind  der  Geister  Lenze. 

The  vivid  contrast  between  winter  and  spring,  the  sudden  and 
unexpected  transition  from  one  to  the  other,  appears  also  in 
his  Diary  en  his  Italian  journey:-'^ 

Noch  in  der  Nacht  passierten  wir  Monselice ;  endlich  brach  der 
Tag  an,  eben  als  Rovigo  vor  una  lag.  Ich  schaute  um  mich  her 
und  schaute  wieder,  aber  es  war  kein  Traum.  Schien  es  doch,  als 
ob  die  Welt  der  Marchen  wiedergekehrt  ware,  und  irgend  ein 
wohlthatiger  Zauberer  uns  in  der  Nacht  in  einen  andern  Weltteil 
gefiihrt  hatte.  Auf  unserer  Reise  bis  Triest  fanden  wir  iiberall 
noch  Schnee  und  Winter ;  die  See,  das  aXs  d.Tpvyero';,  bot  kein  Griin 
als  das  ihres  Wassers,  in  Venedig  sprosst  und  griint  nichts,  selbst 
keine  Baume;  nach  der  tJberfahrt  iiber  die  Lagunen  fanden  wir 
das  Land  schon  in  Nacht  verhiillt,  wir  befanden  uns  daher  mit 
unsern  Gedanken  noch  im  Winter,  und  wenn  wir  auch  glaubten, 
manches  weiter  vorgeriickt  zu  sehn,  als  in  den  Gegenden,  die  wir 
verlassen,  so  konnte  doch  der  Unterschied,  Zeit  und  Entfernung 
betrachtet,  unserer  Meinung  nach  nicht  so  gross  sein.  Nun  stellte 
sich  aber  mit  einemmal  eine  ganz  andere  Welt  dar.  Grune  Felder, 
von  lebendigen  Zaunen  umfangen,  mit  Feigen — und  Maulbeer- 
baumen  besetzt,  an  denen  sich  festonartig  Weinreben  f ortwanden ; 
mit  einem  Worte :  wir  waren  in  Italien  angelangt. 

The  more  one  studies  the  poetry  of  winter  in  Grillparzer, 
the  more  one  notes  his  fondness  for  that  season.  And  yet 
there  is  a  number  of  descriptive  passages  referring  to  winter, 
which  bear  the  marks  of  blackest  pessimism  and  despair. 
Bertha's  gloomy  description  of  the  winter-night,-^  where  the 
earth  is  likened  to  a  corpse  over  which  winter  has  spread  the 
shroud  of  snow,  is  motivated  and  made  appreciable  by  her 
youth.  She  longs  for  spring  because  her  heart  is  young,  be- 
cause her  blood  is  warm.     To  her,  winter  is  as  yet  a  cold 

^OXIX,  p.  206.  -'Ahnfrau,  IV,  p.  16. 


23 

mystery  of  death  and  horror,  which  she  fears  because  she  is 
not  sufficiently  mature  to  comprehend  it.  This  explanation, 
however,  cannot  be  offered  when  one  considers  Grillparzer's 
somber  winter-poem  Polarszene,—  for  here  the  poet  speaks 
himself.  Death  is  also  here  the  chord,  and  plaintive  is  the 
note  which  rings  throughout  both  stanzas.  It  is  not  so  much 
the  presence  of  ice  and  snow,  and  the  lack  of  warming  sun- 
shine, which  seems  to  freeze  Grillparzer's  poetic  imagination 
and  deprive  him  of  his  productive  ambition :  a  keener  con- 
sciousness of  utter  desolation  and,  consequently,  a  depres- 
sion sufficiently  powerful  to  kill  all  self-confidence  and  hope, 
must  be  attributed  directly  to  the  total  absence  of  song-birds. 
The  musical  poet  needs  encouragement  from  nature's  voice : 

Auf  blinkenden  Gefilden 
Ringsum  nur  Eis  und  Schnee, 
Verstummt  der  Trieb  zu  bilden, 
Kein  Sanger  in  der  Holi' ! 
Kein  Strauch,  der  Labung  bote, 
Kein  Sonnenstrahl,  der  frei. 
Und  nur  des  Nordlichts  Rote 
Zeigt  wiist  die  Wiistenei. 

Grillparzer  here  expresses  his  temporary  Stiuimung,  as  he  says 
in  the  second  stanza : 

So  sieht's  in  einem  Innern, 
So  steht's  in  einer  Brust, 
Erstorben  die  Gefiihle, 
Des  Griinens  frische  Lust. 
Nur  schimmernde  Ideen, 
Im  Kalten  angefacht, 
Erheben  sich,  entstehen, 
Und  schwinden  in  die  Nacht. 

The  poet's  general  treatment  of  winter  is  wholly  different. 
Another  specimen  of  optimistic  description  of  winter  may  here 
be  mentioned:  Jagd  im  Winter.-^  Emphasis  is  laid  in  this 
poemupon  the  color-scheme  of  a  winter-landscape :  the  heavens 
gray,  and  the  earth  white.  The  monotony  of  this  combination 
of  colors,  due  to  the  absence  of  a  bit  of  relieving  green — Die 

^  I,  p.  209.  ■■■'  II,  p.  50. 


24 

Baume  kahl — is  enlivened,  however,  by  the  ghttering,  crystal 
ice.  The  poet's  joie  de  vivre  is  only  intensified  by  the  cold, 
and  in  a  buoyant  spirit  he  sings : 

Mag  zagen,  wer  will,  mir  wallet  es  heiss, 
Ich  nenne  willkommen  dich,  blinkendes  Eis, 
Dich,  starrender  Winter  willkommen. 

In  the  second  and  last  stanza  of  Jagd  im  Winter,  there  is 
contained  a  reminiscence  of  spring,  but  in  each  instance  we 
notice  the  desire  to  suppress  all  thoughts  of  this  kind,  and  the 
anxiety  to  appreciate  what  is,  and  not  what  might  be.  With 
this  end  in  view,  Grillparzer  compares  the  present  generation 
of  man  with  winter,  and  he  comes  to  the  conclusion  that  such 
a  comparison  is  more  fitting  than  one  with  spring.  Again  he 
welcomes,  therefore,  the  snow-bedecked  fields.  To  the  advan- 
tage of  winter  is  also  the  comparison  between  the  winter  of 
nature  and  the  winter  of  the  human  intellect.  The  latter  goes 
further  than  nature,  causing  death,  while  nature  only  chills. 
In  the  evening  only,  seated  by  the  fireside,  the  poet  believes 
his  longing  for  spring  to  be  justified,  but  even  here  he  states 
particularly  that  the  expression  of  his  longing  shall  be  con- 
fined to 

ein  cinziger  Seufzer 
Nach  Lenz  und  Bliiten  und  Friichten. 

Of  importance  for  the  study  of  Grillparzer's  description  of 
nature  is  his  treatment  of  sunrise  and  sunset,  morning  and 
evening,  day  and  night,  light  and  darkness.  Wonderfully 
blended  are  the  colors  into  which  the  artist  here  dips  his  brush, 
and  ever-varied  are  his  pictures. 

One  of  these  pictures  of  sunrise,  suffused  with  a  wealth 
of  color  and  light,  may  be  found  in  Melusina,-*  where  Bertha 
and  Troll  together  call  Raimund's  attention  to  the  break  of 
day :  rosy  clouds  brighten  up  the  heavens,  and  a  "  sea  of  fire  " 
rushes  from  des  Auf gangs  Pforten.  This  rapidly  spreading 
sea  of  fire  overflows  all  creation ;  its  vital  influence  is  felt 
everywhere.  So,  the  divine  rays  of  sunlight  lay  bare  the  heart 
of  man:  care-worn,  he  has  tossed  himself  about,  throughout 

==*VII,  p.  258. 


25 

the  night,  slumber  has  fled  his  couch;  but  now  the  soothing 
messenger  of  nature  seeks  him  out,  and  as  hght  and  clearness 
enter  his  anxious  soul,  lifting  the  veil  from  the  chaos  of  doubt 
and  anguish,  he  feels  relieved  and  comforted.  Cf.  the  words 
of  Preisl  in  Friedrich  der  Streitbarc :^^ 

Der  Morgen  schimmert  schon  von  jenen  Bergen, 

Die  Sonne  steigt  empor.     Ist's  doch,  als  ob  ihr  Strahl, 

Indem  er  die  Umgebungen  erleuchtet, 

Zugleich  des  Menschen  Inneres  erhellte. 

Was  uns  bei  Nacht  auf  scblummerlosem  Lager 

In  marternder  Verwirrung  angstigte, 

Es  schlichtet  sich  beim  ersten  Blick  des  Tages, 

Und  Klarheit  kehrt  und  Rub  zur  Brust  zuriick. 

The  sun  himself  is  heiter,  and  this  characteristic  trait  is 
rapidly  communicated  to  all  nature  under  the  influence  of  light. 
Even  the  smallest  insects  make  merry  in  the  sunshine,  and  the 
awakening  flowers  nicken  freundUch  ihr  en  still  en  Gruss.-'^ — 
The  idea  concomitant  with  sunshine  is  pleasure — pure,  unselfish, 
and  universal : 

Seht,  im  Osten  steigt  die  Sonne, 

Alles  lacht  in  ihrem  Schein."' 

This  pleasure  is  evinced  by  new  ambition  and  by  new  activity. 
Sunlight  is  thus  a  stimulus  to  work,  and,  with  a  consciousness 
of  purpose,  the  sun  looks  down  in  astonishment  upon  the  idle. 
This  idea  is  beautifully  carried  out  in  Der  Traum  ein  Leben,-^ 
where  the  uplifting  influence  of  sunrise  is  made  use  of,  not 
merely  as  a  decorative  stage-eflrect,  but  for  the  purpose  of 
arousing  Rustan  from  his  indifiference.  Upon  the  sight  of  the 
sun,  Rustan  bends  his  knee  in  worship  and  expresses  elo- 
quently his  admiration  of  and  his  gratitude  to  the  Eternal  Sim. 
While  Rustan's  prayer  is  the  expression  of  youthful  enthu- 
siasm, we  find  in  Merenberg's  words'^  the  light-inspired  atti- 
tude of  hope,  the  last  flickering  flame  kindled  in  the  heart  of 
an  age-worn  man.  To  him  sunrise  means  another  day: 
another  day  of  life  for  him  and  another  opportunity  for  the 

-'XII,  p.  g.  -  "'^Psyche,  XI,  p.  124. 

^  Mehisina,  VII,  p.  257.  "^  VII,  p.  214. 

^  Konig  Ottokars  Gli'ick  und  Ende_  VI,  p.  71. 


26 

ruling  House  of  Hapsburg,  wliich  he  serves,  to  restore 
Austria  to  the  beauty  and  wealth  which  the  tyranny  of  war 
had  temporarily  laid  waste.  But  the  beauty  and  wealth  of 
nature  must  be  seen,  to  be  appreciated.  This  is  made  possible 
only  through  the  medium  of  light,  as  Grillparzer  states  briefly 
in  the  Chorus  in  Mclusina:^^ 

Doch  wie  aller  Erden  Pracht 
Erst  die  Sonne  sichtbar  macht ; 

while,  in  his  Tagchiich  atif  der  Reise  nach  Italieii,^^  he  refers 
to  the  effect  of  the  rising  sun,  which  unfolds  to  him  the 
wonders  of  nature  as  zvelch  eiiidger  Gcmiss! 

The  manifest  combination  of  the  moral  and  aesthetic  ele- 
ments in  light  justify  Hero^-  in  calling  it  gottentsprungen,  and 
the  poet  carries  out  this  idea  more  elaborately  in  his  ode  of 
appreciation  An  die  Sonnc,^^  which  represents,  at  the  same 
time,  a  summing  up  of  all  the  characteristics  of  sunlight: 

Sonne,  gottliches  Licht !  Schaffende,  nahrende 
Himmelstochter !     Du  spendest  uns 
Wonne,  Segen  und  Lust,  Fruchte  den  lockenden 
Fluren,  zeugest  den  Traubensaft. 

Grillparzer  likewise  shows  keen  appreciation  for  the  ro- 
mantic beauty  of  moonlight  effects.  So,  he  lets  Publipor^* 
describe  the  magic  charm  of  a  moonlit  landscape.  The  modh 
herself  is  likened  to  a  silver  sickle  contrasting  prominently 
with  a  background  of  dark-blue  clouds ;  the  light  itself  is 
characterized  by  the  adjective  si'iss.  A  passage  in  Das  Kloster 
bci  Sendomir^^  shows  the  rising  moon  struggling  with  and 
conquering  the  last  rays  of  the  evening  twilight,  while  the 
dark  shadows  of  night  "  settle  in  the  folds  of  the  valley  and 
beneath  the  trees  in  the  forest."  If  sunlight  inspires  to 
activity,  the  moon,  as  a  characteristic  attribute  of  night,  invites 
to  rest.  This  is  the  thought  reflected  in  Grillparzer's  ode  An 
den  Mond,^^  a  fitting  counterpart  to  his  above-mentioned 
tribute  An  die  Sonne.     In  this  poem  the  heavens  are  likened 


^VII,  p.  262.  ^XIX,  p.  253. 

^^  VII,  p.  20.  ^  II,  p.  70. 

^'Spartakus,  XI,  p.  134.  ^  XIII,  p.  196. 
''  II,  p.  78. 


27 

to  the  waves  of  the  sea  over  which  the  moon  ghcles  gently. 
Here,  also,  the  moonlight  is  referred  to  as  holder  Schimmer. 
The  moon  herself  is  personified,  and  her  light  is  called  Blick. 
Rest,  joy,  solace  and  oblivion  are  the  effects  of  moonlight 
upon  the  soul  of  man : 

Sanfter,  als  die  heisse  Sonne, 
Winkt  dein  Schimmer  Ruh'  und  Freud', 
Und  erfiillt  mit  siisser  Wonne, 
Trostung  und  Vergessenheit. 

It  should  not  be  forgotten  that  Grillparzer  sought  Trostung 
und  Vergessenheit  in  the  realm  of  poetry.  The  moon,  now, 
is  one  of  the  phenomena  of  nature  which  furnishes  a  source 
of  inspiration.  In  a  later  reference^'  to  the  poem  An  den 
Mond,  its  two  first  stanzas  are  attributed  directly  to  the  action 
of  the  full  moon  upon  the  poet's  imagination. 

With  glowing  red,  a  contrast  to  the  blue  sky,  the  whole  in 
a  frame  of  dark-gray,  Grillparzer  paints  a  placid  picture  of 
sunset  and  evening.^^  Lest  the  green  of  the  foliage  disappear 
in  this  sea  of  red,  a  gentle  breeze  is  made  to  stir  the  leaves, 
thus  causing  a  vibration  of  color  which  the  poet  believes  to  be 
so  beautiful  that  he  calls  attention  to  it  again  through  its 
reflection  in  a  near-by  pond.  Gradually,  together  with  the 
setting  sun,  the  entire  picture  disappears  from  view ;  the 
approaching  night  casts  its  dark  veil  over  it,  and,  like  a  mist 
in  the  background,  the  fragrance  of  mountain,  dale  and 
meadow  rises  slowly  up  to  the  heavens — incense  from  altars 
of  worship: 

Berg  und  Tal  und  Wiese  diiften, 
Dampfenden  Altaren  gleich. 

All  is  gray;  farbloses  Grau  the  priest  calls  it  in  Des  Meercs 
und  der  Liebc  Wellcn;^^  utter  hopelessness  seems  to  linger 
over  the  universe.  But  this  does  not  last.  Soon  the  picture 
changes,  as  the  somber  gray  is  enlivened,  here  and  there,  by 
the  brightness  of  a  star.    We  stand  and  count.    One  by  one,  at 

^  Zh  den  einzclnen  Werkcn,  XVIII,  p.  165. 
^^Der  Abend,  II,  p.  81. 
='  VII,  p.  47. 


28 

first,  then  faster,  and  ever  faster,  until  the  number  grows 
beyond  us 

blinkt  dort  ein  Stern, 
Und  dort  ein  zweiter,  dritter,  hundert,  tausend, 

and  the  former  spectacle  of  hopelessness  changes  to  an  inspi- 
ration of  fairest  hope : 

Die  Ahnung  einer  reichen,  gotterhellten  Nacht 

drifts  into  the  soul  of  man.  Everlasting  is  this  feeling  and 
the  blessing  of  hope;  it  is  a  hope  beyond  the  grave,  for  the 
stars  are  always  the  same :  their  mild,  soothing,  hope-inspiring 
light  is  always  present.     So  Medea  :*^ 

Die  Nacht  bricht  ein,  die  Sterne  steigen  auf, 
Mit  mildeni,  sanften  Licht  herunterscheinend; 
Dieselben  heute,  die  sie  gestern  waren, 
Als  ware  alles  heut',  wie's  gestern  war. 

A  suggestive  passage  referring  to  sunset  and  evening  may 
be  found  in  Der  Traum  ein  Lehen.  Mirza  here^^  passes  from 
one  to  the  other.  The  parting  sun  which  goes  to  rest  is  used 
here  for  the  purpose  of  introducing  the  idea  of  tranquillity 
and  repose.  In  this  manner,  the  connection  between  sunset 
and  evening  is  established,  and  now  follows  a  beautiful  elabo- 
ration of  the  theme  which  has  found  so  much  favor  with 
nature-poets  of  renown :  evening,  representing  the  cessation  of 
nature's  activity,  grants  her  the  well-earned  rest  from  the 
labors  of  the  day.  The  birds  in  the  branches  announce  the 
hour  of  relief  for  all  creation,  the  herds  seek  shelter  for  the 
night,  and  the  drooping  flower-heads,  like  babes  at  bedtime, 
show  that  they  have  already  obeyed  the  call  of  ^Mother  Nature : 

Abend  ist's,  die  Schopfung  feiert, 
Und  die  Vogel  aus  den  Zweigen, 
Wie  beschwingte  Silberglockchen, 
Lauten  ein  den  Feierabend, 
Schon  bereit,  ihr  siiss  Gebot, 
Ruhend,  selber  zu  erfiillen. 
Alles  folget  ihrem  Rufe, 
AUe  Augen  fallen  zu ; 
Zu  den  Hiirden  zieht  die  Herde, 

"V,  p.  217,  "VII,  p.  112. 


29 

Und  die  Blume  senkt  in  Ruh 
Schlummerschwer  das  Haupt  zur  Erde. 

It  may  not  be  far-fetched  to  recall  in  this  connection  Goethe's 
well-known  poem  tjhcr  alien  Gipfeln  ist  Ruh'  .  .  . 

How  does  the  period  of  nature's  slumber  appear  to  Grill- 
parzer?  This  question  leads  us  to  the  consideration  of  his 
treatment  of  night  and  darkness.  What  is  remarkable  here 
is  Grillparzer's  point  of  view.  The  element  of  rest  and  slum- 
ber, although  not  entirely  missing,  appears  to  have  been 
crowded  into  the  background  under  the  forceful  strain  of 
the  realization  that  night's  steady  companion  is  darkness,  the 
mother  of  evil.  There  is  a  great  number  of  passages  which 
thus  describe  night  from  the  viewpoint  of  horror.  The  very 
thought  that  night  obscures  the  beauty  of  nature  is  sufficient 
to  inspire  horror  and  fear.    So  in  the  poem  Verzvandlungcn:^- 

Wie  bist  du  schaurig, 
Du  dunkle  Nacht ! 
Hier  waren  Wiesen, 
War  Farbenpracht, 
Doch  kaum  zur  Riiste 
Der  Sonne  Schein, 
So  sank  zur  Wiiste 
Das  Eden  ein. 

More  vivid  even  than  this,  is  the  description  of  the  awesome 
element  in  night  as  the  result  of  a  bad  conscience,  linked 
invariably  with  the  irrational  fear  of  phantoms  and  spooks. 
Night  here  becomes  a  tormenting  persecutor  and  avenger  of 
crime — darkness  not  only  breeds,  but  also  punishes  deeds  of 
evil.  Jaromir's  slumber  is  disturbed  by  the  ghost  of  the 
ancestress  who  leaves  her  grave  at  night.  His  morbid  imagina- 
tion and  the  consciousness  of  wrong  make  night  and  darkness 
an  intolerable  burden  for  him:^^ 

Da  reiss'  ich  des  Bettes  Vorhang 
Auf  mit  ungestiimer  Hast : 
Und  mit  tausend  Flammenaugen 
Starrt  die  Nacht  mich  glotzend  an. 

^=1,  p.  216.  "IV,  p.  44. 


30 

Forces  of  nature,  to  which  httle  attention  is  paid  in  the 
daytime,  inspire  fear  at  night.  The  howhng  storm  thus 
becomes  the  terrifying  language  of  darkness  (cf.  Ahnfrau, 
IV,  p.  86),  and  darkness  is  the  grave,  is  death  (cf.  Sappho, 
IV,  p.  i88).  At  night  Mehtta  was  taken  away  from  the  lov- 
ing arms  of  her  parents.  That  night  has  left  an  inextinguish- 
able impression  upon  her;  she  calls  it  imld}^  Drahomira*^ 
directly  refers  to  night  as  Die  Mutter  nachtlich  schivarser  Tat, 
and  she  likens  darkness  to  a  dragon  whose  wings  protect  the 
brood  of  evil,  until  it  has  sufficiently  matured  to  withstand 
the  penetrating  rays  of  sunlight. — Medea  calls  upon  the 
di'istern  Gcister  der  schaurigen  Nacht^^  for  assistance;  her 
black  magic  art  is  the  child  of  night.'*'  The  horrible  dragon 
who  guards  the  Golden  Fleece  dwells  in  the  darkness  of  a 
cave,'*^  and  Gora  threatens  the  life  of  those  who  would  deprive 
Medea  of  her  children  with  the  words  :*^ 

Sie  sollen  .  .  . 

.  .  .  sterben,  fallen, 

In  Grausen,  in  Nacht ! 

Don  Pedro  speaks  of  the  poisonous  breath  of  darkness,  and 
midnight,  he  says,  is  pregnant  with  a  black  monster.^"  The 
horrors  of  midnight,  when  the  owl,  the  bird  of  misery,  shrieks, 
when  the  graves  open  themselves  and  give  forth  their  grue- 
some contents,  are  drastically  pictured  also  by  Publipor.^^ 

Again  and  again,  as  we  have  seen,  night  and  darkness  are 
identified  with  horror  and  evil,  but  this  is  not  the  only  aspect 
of  Grillparzer's  description  of  the  subject.  Total  absence  of 
light  is  always  accompanied  by  hopelessness  and  despair.  In 
the  description  of  sunset  this  idea  was  reproduced;  in  the 
description  of  night,  the  poet  carries  it  still  further.  To 
exemplify,  the  words  of  Count  Borotin  may  be  quoted  :^- 

Fahre  wohl  denn,  f ahre  wohl ! 
Maine  letzte,  einz'ge  Hoffnung! 

**IV,  p.  163.  '=XI,  p.  3. 

'"V,  p.  45.  ^'V,  p.  133. 

«V,  p.  67.  ''V,  p.  178. 

■^"X,  p.  187.  "XI,  p.  138. 
''  IV,  p.  93. 


31 

Wohl,  die  Sonne  ist  hinunter, 
Ausgeglimmt  der  letzte  Schein, 
Dunkle  Nacht  bricht  rings  herein. 

The  pure  and  innocent  are  spared  the  horrors  of  night.  To 
them  night  brings  rest  and  refreshment,  darkness  brings  sleep. 
In  Bertha's  Lied  in  der  Nacht^^  we  have  a  beautiful  exposi- 
tion of  this  thought.  Attention  must  be  given  here  to  the 
fact  that  the  terms  dark  or  black  are  not  to  be  found :  Grill- 
parzer  associates  horror  and  evil  with  these  terms,  and  inas- 
much as  this  poem  has  no  reference  thereto,  they  have  been 
carefully  avoided.  The  whole  poem,  on  the  contrary,  breathes 
a  beneficent  air,  and  the  consciousness  of  the  blessings  of 
sleep  is  uppermost  in  the  poet's  mind.  Darkness,  as  has  just 
been  pointed  out,  is  not  directly  mentioned,  but  only  alluded 
to,  and  the  allusion  itself  is  highly  poetic: 

Nacht  umhilllt 
Mit  wehendem  Flilgel 
Taler  und  Hiigel, 
Ladend  zur  Ruh. 

The  description  of  night  as  a  time  of  rest  leads  further  to 
the  consideration  of  that  element  without  which  rest  is  impos- 
sible :  quiet,  tranquillity.  Quiet  is  necessary  for  the  prepara- 
tion of  some  great  work,  for  the  planning  of  some  important 
undertaking,  and  this  necessary  element  of  stillness  is  afforded 
by  night,  the  time  when  all  nature  is  asleep.  Thus  night  may 
be  a  source  of  inspiration  to  man;  a  thought  which  Spartakus 
expresses  so  well  :^* 

Im  Dunkel  wird  das  Wiirdige  geboren, 
Und  erst  voUendet  zeigt  es  sich  dem  Licht, 
So  hat  mein  Thun  die  Nacht  zur  Wieg  erkoren, 
Es  flieht  die  Sonn',  doch  fiirchtet  es  sie  nicht. 

The  same  tranquillity  which  is  an  inspiration  of  work  acts  also 
as  an  inspiration  of  love,  thus  opening  the  most  important 
page  in  the  book  of  nature.  At  night,  when  darkness  con- 
demns our  outer  senses  to  inactivity,  our  inmost  feeling  is 
more  easily  accessible  to  nature's  influence  than  at  any  other 

=*il,  p.  12.  ^*XI,  p.  241. 

4 


32 

time.  It  is  again  Spartakus  who  translates  this  thought  into 
romantic  language  :^^ 

Wenn  sie  vertrauend  lag  in  meinen  Armen, 
Im  Schoss  der  Nacht,  die  unsre  innern  Sinne 
Vom  Schlaf  erweckt,  wenn  sie  die  aussern  einlullt, 
Vom  Zitterschein  der  Sterne  mild  umflossen. 

The  reflection  of  night  and  darkness  in  the  character  of  man 
is  shown  in  Jason's  words  t^*^ 

Ich  lieb'  die  Nacht,  der  Tag  verletzt  mein  Auge. 

This  line  is  prompted  by  the  fact  that  Jason  is  conscious  of  his 
wrong-doing. — On  the  other  hand,  Grillparzer  draws  a  power- 
ful picture  of  the  inhabitants  of  Kolchis  by  careful  descrip- 
tion of  the  darkness  of  its  forests,  the  thickness  of  its  fogs, 
and  the  prevailing  stillness  of  death,  which  is  interrupted  only 
by  the  howling  of  the  wind  and  by  the  uncanny  rustling  of 
lofty  pines.^'^  This  gloomy  picture  is  used  for  the  purpose 
of  preparing  us  for  just  as  gloomy  deeds,  to  be  perpetrated  by 
the  natives  of  such  a  country.  It  is  significant  that  Milo,  a 
member  of  the  Greek  expedition,  rather  than  a  Kolchian,  gave 
this  description  of  Kolchis.  A  Kolchian  could  not  give  it, 
could  not  do  justice  to  it,  because  his  description  of  nature 
would  be  too  subjective,  as  Medea  herself  remarks  :^^ 

O  Kolchis !     O  du  meiner  Vater  Land ! 
Sie  nennen  dunkel  dich,  mir  scheinst  du  hell ! 

Grillparzer  attached  so  much  importance  to  the  description 
of  night  that  he  devoted  an  entire  scene,  the  first  act  of  the 
Arg&nauten,  to  a  symbolic  representation  of  it.  We  are  in 
Kolchis.  Wilde  Gegend  mit  Felsen  und  Bdiimeii  (obscuring 
light),  .  .  .  finstere  Nacht,  says  the  introductory  note.  Soon 
xMetes  appears  gans  in  einen  dunkeln  Mantel  gehiillt.  Ab- 
syrtus  speaks  in  glowing  terms  of  the  beauty  of  Kolchis,  the 
land  where  the  sun  sets ;  later  he  calls  up  to  the  lonely  tower 
in  which  his  sister  practises  hlack  zvitchcraft  (the  tower  is 
scantily  lighted  by  but  one  flickering  light).  He  addresses 
Medea  as  Du  IVandlerin  der  Nacht.     When  she  finally  con- 

«XI,  p.  152.  »»V,  p.  134. 

''V,  pp.  47,  48.  ^V,  p.  146. 


33 

sents  to  come  down  and  to  meet  father  and  brother,  she  appears 
in  clothes  which  are  highly  suggestive  of  the  poet's  intention  to 
introduce  a  personification  of  sunset  (cf.  V,  p.  37,  bottom). 
Aietes'  guilt-laden  conscience  cannot  bear  so  much  light,  and 
thus  Medea  extinguishes  her  torch.  She  yields  to  her  father's 
wishes,  and  she  agrees  to  make  use  of  her  art,  to  slay  the  bold 
foreigners.  For  this  purpose,  she  invokes  the  diistern  Geister 
der  schaurigen  Nacht.  The  appearance  of  Jason,  who  repre- 
sents Light,  sets  off  Medea's  characteristics  still  more  promi- 
nently. Later,  we  are  taken  into  ein  diisteres  Gewolhe  im 
Innern  des  Turmes,  and  Medea  comes  einen  schwarsen  Stab 
in  der  Rechten.  During  her  invocation  of  the  furchtbare 
Filrsten  der  Tiefe,  she  is  surprised  by  Jason.  He  wounds  her 
and  would  have  killed  her,  but  as  he  raises  the  lamp  to  discover 
her  hiding-place,  he  is  awed  by  so  much  beauty  which  darkness 
had  concealed  from  him.  Light-Jason  finally  conquers  Dark- 
ness-Medea, because  into  her  soul  have  penetrated  the  heavenly 
rays  of  light,  of  love.  The  next  act  contains  the  following 
significant  introductory  note :  Es  ist  Tag. 

There  remains  to  be  discussed  under  the  heading  of  light 
and  darkness,  the  contrast  between  the  two  which  Grillparzer 
uses  with  considerable  effect.  While  light  leads  to  knowledge, 
in  so  far  as  it  represents  experience  gained  through  our  visual 
sense,  darkness  makes  appeal  to  our  inner  feeling.  Too  much 
light,  however,  is  as  harmful  as  too  much  darkness,  and  nature 
has  thus  wisely  provided  for  a  proper  distribution  of  each. 
This  is  well  expressed  by  Rudolf  in  the  Bruderzivist.^^  Like- 
wise, when  Phaon  awakes  from  the  dream  which  shows  that 
he  has  now  grown  conscious  of  his  love  for  Melitta,  he  con- 
trasts the  new  light  which  has  been  poured  out  over  his  soul, 
with  the  former  state  of  gloom.  The  entire  contrast  is  visual- 
ized by  means  of  describing  the  joy  of  one  who  sees  the  sun- 
light again  after  being  cast  suddenly  into  the  dark  depths  of 
the  sea.  The  entire  passage*'"  reminds  one  vividly  of  Schiller's 
Tauchcr: 

Ich  atme  wieder  unbeklemmt  und  f  rei ; 

Und  gleich  dem  Armen,  den  ein  jaher  Sturz 

='IX,  p.  108.  ""IV,  p.  175. 


34 

Ins  dunkle  Reich  der  See  hinabgeschleudert, 

Wo  Grausen  herrscht  und  angstlich  dumpfes  Bangen, 

Wenn  ihn  empor  nun  hebt  der  Wellen  Arm 

Und  jetzt  das  heitre  goldne  Sonnenlicht, 

Der  Kuss  der  Luft,  des  Klanges  freud'ge  Stimme 

Mit  einemmal  um  seine  Stimme  spielen : 

So  steh'  ich  freudetrunken,  gliicklich,  selig, 

Und  wiinsche  mir,  erliegend  all  der  Wonne, 

Mehr  Sinne  oder  weniger  Genuss. 

We  have  here  all  the  characteristics  of  darkness :  horror, 
gloom,  and  quiet,  set  off  by  all  the  attributes  of  light :  impulse 
of  energy,  sound  and  joy  of  living.  In  his  apology  to  Kreusa, 
for  allowing  himself  to  fall  in  love  with  the  Barbarian  woman, 
Jason  also  effectively  avails  himself  of  the  contrast  between 
light  and  darkness.  The  radiant  beauty  of  Medea,  in  the 
milieu  of  Kolchis'  horrible  night,  captured  his  light-loving 
heart ;  but  she  remains  beautiful  only  so  long  as  her  fairness  is 
brought  into  prominence  by  a  dark  background :  in  Greece,  in 
the  land  of  light,  she  appears  dark,  and  thus  she  loses  her 
former  attraction  :^^ 

1st  sie  hier  dunkel,  dort  erschien  sie  licht, 
Im  Abstich  ihrer  nachtlichen  Umgebung. 

As  we  have  seen,  Medea  always  represents  darkness,  in  spite 
of  the  above-quoted  passage  which  seems  to  me  to  characterize 
Jason's  infatuation  as  an  illusion.  The  very  failure  of  the 
marriage  between  Jason  and  Medea  appears  to  be  caused  by 
the  contrast  of  light  and  darkness,  sunrise  and  sunset,  day  and 
night,  which  has  been  shown  to  exist  between  the  two.  A  union 
of  two  elements  so  opposed  to  each  other  is  an  impossibility, 
just  as  day  and  night  can  have  no  place  side  by  side.  Their 
paths,  aims  and  purposes  lie  in  altogether  different  directions, 
and  their  children — (they  are  Jason's  children  as  well  as 
Medea's,  but  they  resemble  him  more  than  her) — are  the  chil- 
dren of  light  rather  than  of  darkness,  and  they  obey  more 
readily  the  impulses  of  light.  It  is  this  realization  which  places 
the  dagger  in  the  mother's  hand:*^- 

"V,  p.  149.  «2  Y,  p.  215. 


35 

Wenn  ich  bedenk',  dass  es  mein  eigen  Blut, 

Das  Kind,  das  ich  im  eignen  Schoss  getragen, 

Das  ich  genahrt  an  dieser  meiner  Brust, 

Dass  es  mein  Selbst,  das  sich  gen  mich  empdrt. 

So  sieht  der  Grimm  mir  schneidend  diirch  das  Innre, 

Und  Blutgedanken  h'dumcn  sich  empor. 

The  significant  passage  through  which  Grillparzer  seems  to 
anticipate,  from  the  very  outset,  the  gloomy  end  of  the  rela- 
tions between  the  ill-mated  pair,  is  the  symbolic  wedding 
scene,^^  in  which  Jason  tears  the  black  veil  (symbol  of  dark- 
ness) from  Medea's  brow: 

Und  wie  ich  diesen  Schleier  von  dir  reisse, 
Durchwoben  mit  der  Unterird'schen  Zeichen, 
So  reiss'  ich  dich  von  all  den  Banden  los, 
Die  dich  gekniipft  an  dieses  Landes  Frevel  .  .  . 
So  f rei  und  offen  bist  du  Jasons  Braut ! 

Jason  here  desires  to  wed  light  unto  darkness,  and  the  under- 
taking of  the  impossible  must  finally  be  fatal  to  both. 

A  glance  over  the  many  passages  which  embody  Grillparzer's 
treatment  of  water  reveals  only  one  reference  to  its 
usefulness  :^* 

Der  Strom,  der  Schiffe  tragt  und  Wiesen  wassert, 
Er  mag  durch  Felsen  sich  und  Klippen  drangen, 
Vermischen  sich  mit  seiner  Ufer  Grund, 
Er  fordert,  nutzt,  ob  klar,  ob  triib  verbreitet. 

A  general  description  of  water  is  given  in  the  poem  Das 
Spiegclhild.^^  The  poet  lies  stretched  out  in  the  green,  by  the 
side  of  a  spring,  and,  unconsciously,  he  allows  himself  to  come 
under  the  influence  of  the  clear  water  in  which  he  sees  his  own 
countenance  reflected.  He  forgets,  for  a  moment,  his  prejudice 
against  water's  treachery,  and  associates  the  still  purity  of  the 
transparent  element  with  the  longing  of  his  heart,  resolving 
to  settle  here,  and  to  dwell  in  harmony  with  it,  in  the  expecta- 
tion of  finding  rest  and  comfort : 

''^  V,  p.  100. 

^  Des  Meeres  und  der  Liebe  Wellcn,  VII,  p.  48. 

^  I,  pp,  162,  163. 


36 

An  deinem  Ufer  will  ich  ruhn, 
Will  mir  ein  Laubdach  baun, 
Matt  von  des  Lebens  Miihn  und  Thun 
In  deine  Wellen  schaun. 

But  suddenly  he  beholds  in  the  water  not  only  his  own  picture, 
but  also  that  of  a  friend  whom  he  believed  in  the  distance,  and 
this  reminds  him  again  of  water's  insincerity.  However,  he 
is  far  from  quarreling  with  nature  on  this  account,  and  he 
accepts  and  appreciates  nature  as  she  is :  to  suggest  improve- 
ments would  seem  sacrilegious  to  him : 

Des  Wassers  Art  ist  eben  so, 
Zeigt  nicht  nut  ein  Gesicht, 
Die  ganze  Welt  ist  dessen  froh, 
Und  ich  auch  grolle  nicht. 

In  spite  of  the  unreliabihty  of  water,  the  poet  is  ready  to  enjoy 
its  beauties,  also  in  the  future ;  but  appreciation  of  beauty  does 
not  lay  claim  to  trust,  and  he  decides  therefore  to  build  his 
home  elsewhere. 

The  insincere  character  of  water  is  made  the  object  of 
description  in  a  number  of  other  passages.  Grillparzer's 
personal  sincerity  and  straightforwardness  resents  it,  and  yet 
there  seems  to  be  a  peculiar  attraction  for  him  in  this  par- 
ticular trait.  Like  Lord  Byron,  he  is  at  times  aroused  by  the 
beautiful  spectacle  presented  by  the  conspiracy  of  the  raging 
elements  against  man.  A  picture  of  this  kind  is  drawn  by 
Phryxus  :*"' 

Und  wie  die  Wogen  schaumten,  Donner  briillten, 
Und  Meer  und  Wind  und  Holle  sich  verschworen, 
Mich  zu  versenken  in  das  nasse  Grab ; 

and  tiickisch  and  schzvars  (the  latter  being  here  synonymous 
with  evil)  are  the  qualifying  adjectives  with  which  Count 
Borotin''"  refers  to  water. 

However,  far  more  important  than  the  treatment  of  water  as 
a  treacherous  element  are  Grillparzer's  allusions  to  its  harmoni- 
ous language.  In  the  poem  BachcsgemurmeP^  he  imitates  with 
rare  skill  the  splashing  of  the  billows,  and  he  interprets  the 

*  V,  p.  23.  «<  IV,  p.  98.  «*  I,  p.  173. 


37 

language  of  water.  The  poem  represents  a  dialogue  between 
two  waves.  The  second,  i.  e.,  the  next-following  wave,  crowds 
upon  the  first.  The  latter  remonstrates,  claiming  priority,  but 
Wave  No.  2  pays  no  heed.  A  cry  of  pain  indicates  that  the 
first  wave  has  been  struck  and  crowded  out  of  its  original 
place.  The  remaining  waves  then  comfort  their  companion 
and  chide  the  impatient  one: 

Nu,  nu ! 

Keine  Rub? 

Fliessen  doch  alle  dem  Frieden  zu. 

The  musical  murmuring  of  a  brook  conveys  to  the  poet  the 
idea  of  joy.  "  Scht  an  den  Bach,"  says  Libussa,'^''  "  wie  froh 
cr  inurnicit/'  and  the  hollow  murmur  of  ocean  billows,  in  the 
neighborhood  of  St.  Helena  Island,  reveals  the  voice  of  an 
avenging  deity.^°  We  observe  then  that  the  language  of  water 
is  one  of  the  causes  which  lead  to  the  poet's  pantheistic  in- 
terpretation of  nature. 

Grillparzer's  description  of  water,  as  may  have  become  evi- 
dent, shows  particular  interest  in  the  source  of  a  river,  and 
in  the  brook.  His  treatment  of  stream  and  river  is  not  so 
enthusiastically  appreciative.  This  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the 
transparent  purity  of  spring  and  brook 

Zu  dem  der  Pilger  naht  mit  durst'gem  Mund, 
Die  Priesterin,  zu  sprengen  am  Altar,'^ 

is  much  more  attractive  and  symbolically  significant  to  him  than 
the  prosaic  Strom,  dcr  Schiffe  trdgt  und  Wicsen  zvdsscrtJ- 
The  other  reason  for  Grillparzer's  apparent  neglect  of  the  river 
is  to  be  sought  in  his  realization  that  the  element  of  freedom, 
so  closely  linked  with  spring  and  brook,  is  lost  in  stream  and 
river  which  become  the  Diencr  eincs  andcr-n''^  (i.  e.,  of  the 
sea),  thus  losing  their  original  individuality. 

Guided  by  the  Servant,  we  follow  our  poet  to  his  description 
of  the  Master,  and  we  admire  with  him  the  beauty  of  the 
sea.  In  1819,  on  his  trip  to  Italy,  Grillparzcr  saw  the  sea  for 
the  first  time.     It  is  interesting  to  note  with  what  impetuous 

""VIII,  p.  214.  '"11,  p.  88. 

"VII,  p.  48.  'Ubid. 

"VIII,  p.  214. 


38 

impatience  the  poet  leaped  from  his  carriage,  when  he  arrived 
at  the  top  of  the  hill  which  was  the  last  obstacle  between  him 
and  the  object  of  his  longing.  Like  a  wild,  resounding  shout 
of  joy,  a  second  @d\arra,  OaXarra  !  there  comes  from  the 
bottom  of  his  heart  the  utterance:  "Ah!  und  da  lag  es  vor  mis 
zifcit  und  Man  und  hell,  und  es  war  das  Meer!  "''*'  Grillparzer's 
imagination  had  drawn  a  loftier,  mightier  picture  than  that 
which  he  now  beheld,  but  he  had  not  expected  so  much  beauty. 
It  is  true,  as  he  himself  remarks,  that  the  sea  in  the  vicinity  of 
Trieste  is  not  especially  awe-inspiring.  Perhaps,  had  he  first 
seen  the  sea  in  some  other  more  favorable  locality,  the  real 
would  have  come  closer  to  his  ideal.  Nevertheless,  the  im- 
pression made  upon  him  by  the  beauty  of  the  spectacle  was  so 
overwhelming  that  words  failed  him  to  express  it.  He 
expected  to  find  a  "  rigid,  unsubdued  element,"  and  his  admir- 
ing eyes  fell  upon  a  calm  and  gentle  sea  which  he  likened  in 
beautiful  language  to  a  pacified  sweetheart,  "  die  doppelt  schon 
ist,  wenn  sie  geziirnt  hat  und  getobt,  und  nun  doppelt  hold  den 
Teuren  schmeichelnd  und  besanftigend  umfangt — ."  Par- 
ticularly beautiful  appears  to  Grillparzer  the  sea  at  sunset.  If 
he  had  been  charmed  by  the  light-efifect,  displayed  by  morning 
— and  midday — sun  in  connection  with  the  sea,  he  went  into 
ecstasy  {"und  ich  dachte  mir  im  Fcenlande  su  sein"'^^),  when 
all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow — blue  and  red  and  green  and 
gold — seemed  to  be  reflected  in  the  water.  So  powerful  was 
the  effect  that  he  was  anxious  to  return  home,  for  rest  and — 
for  meditation. 

In  contrast  with  the  immeasurable  beauty  of  a  calm  sea  is 
the  terror  inspired  by  the  raging  element.  Beauty  may  be 
affected  by  a  change  of  character,  and  so  the  poet  describes 
(Am  Morgen  nach  einem  Sturmey^  the  sea  as  tauh  und  duster 
in  consequence  of  its  foolish  and  useless  struggle  against 
heaven  and  earth.  Return  to  the  state  of  calmness,  i.  e.,  of 
beauty,  is  therefore  the  poet's  advice  to  the  sea.  The  cause 
of  the  sea's  hostility  is  attributed  by  Grillparzer  to  envy,  and 
this  envy,  he  attempts  to  show,  is  unfounded  as  the  beauty  of 
neither  heaven  nor  earth  in  any  way  surpasses  that  of  the  sea. 

'*XIX,  p.  198.  "XIX,  p.  200.  ■'!,  p.  132. 


39 

In  another  passage  (Mir jams  Siegesgesang) ,''^  on  the  other 
hand,  the  storming  sea  is  described  as  an  agent  of  vengeance 
whose  anger  can  be  appeased  only  by  the  destruction  of  the 
guilty.  So  complete  is  this  act  of  destruction,  that  not  a  trace 
remains  of  the  criminal,  who  disappears  entirely,  hidden  from 
view  by  the  punishing  waves,  which  are  grave  and  coffin  at  the 
same  time.  This  is  again  an  allusion  to  the  ideal  of  ethics 
expressed  through  one  of  the  forces  of  nature,  but  in  this 
instance,  strictly  in  accordance  with  the  subject  of  this  poem, 
the  avenging  sea  does  not  represent  the  godhead  itself,  but — 
scripture-like — nature  sings  the  glory  of  Almighty  God : 

Drum  mit  Zimbel  und  mit  Saiten 

Lasst  den  Hall  es  (d.  h.  das  Meer)  tragen  weit. 

Gross  der  Herr  zu  alien  Zeiten, 

Heute  gross  vor  aller  Zeit. 

Descriptions  of  the  raging  elements  coupled  with  reflections 
upon  their  effect  on  nature  and  man  are  not  infrequent;  par- 
ticular attention,  however,  seems  to  have  been  paid  to  the  sub- 
ject of  thunderstorms.  In  the  poem  Gedmiken  am  Fenster''^ 
we  have  a  fine  exposition  of  the  contrast  which  lies  in  the 
twofold  effect  of  a  thunderstorm.  From  the  near  mountains 
comes  the  first  warning  roar  of  thunder;  gloom,  fear  and 
death  is  spread  out  everywhere :  the  whole  represents  a  mani- 
festation of  the  supreme  power  of  the  deity.  The  earth  is 
terrified,  the  air  is  in  a  state  of  breathless  anxiety,  the  birds 
have  ceased  their  singing  and  they  listen,  from  their  nests,  to 
the  mightier  voice.  All  nature  is  conscious  of  the  approach 
of  judgment.  A  flash  of  lightning  causes  the  guilty  eye  of  man 
to  close,  and  his  inmost  soul  is  bared  by  the  brilliancy  of  the 
pure  avenging  light.  A  squall  of  wind,  which  raises  a  cloud 
of  dust,  thus  hiding  everything  from  view,  adds  to  the  general 
confusion,  and  intensifies  fear.  The  climax  of  tension  is 
therewith  reached,  and  immediate  relief  is  now  brought  by  a 
cooling  shower.  The  fearful  anticipation  of  vengeance  yields 
to  the  consciousness  of  nature's  blessings : 

Doch  horch !  welch'  leis'  Bewegen 
Rauscht  durch  die  Blatterwand? 

"I,  p.  1 88.  "II,  p.  26." 


40 

Was  Strafe  schien,  wird  Segen, 
Vom  Himmel  rieselt  Regen 
Und  trankt  das  durst'ge  Land. 

But  not  always  is  the  damage  done  by  the  raging  elements  of 
so  little  consequence  as  here.  The  irrestrainable  power  of 
nature's  destructive  forces  brings  man  to  the  sad  realization  of 
his  own  impotence :  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders  he  must  look 
on,  well  aware  of  the  futility  of  any  attempt  at  interference. 
So  Naukleros :''''' 

War  sprach'  auch  wohl  zum  brandend  tauben  Meer, 
Zuni  lauten  Sturm,  dem  wilden  Tier  der  Wiiste, 
Das  achtlos  folgt  der  angebornen  Gier? 

The  destruction  so  often  wrought  by  a  thunderstorm  is  alluded 
to  by  Ottokar,  who  compares  his  own  actions  with  the  ravages 
of  a  storm.^''  Another  inference,  however,  is  to  be  drawn 
from  this  passage.  Grillparzer  here  defends  the  right  of 
nature  to  inflict  injury,  by  calling  attention  to  nature's  ability 
to  make  amends.  He  who  destroys,  must  have  the  power  to 
replace,  and  he  who  destroys  knowing  that  he  cannot  replace, 
must  necessarily  commit  an  immoral  act.  Of  such  immorality 
man  may  well  be  guilty,  but  nature  is  regarded  by  Grillparzer 
as  the  moral  ideal,  so  that  an  immoral  action  on  the  part  of 
nature  is  an  impossibility. 

Ich  hab'  nicht  gut  in  deiner  Welt  gehaust, 
Du  grosser  Gott !     Wie  Sturm  und  Ungewitter 
Bin  ich  gezogen  iiber  deine  Fluren; 
Du  aber  bist's  allein,  der  stiirmen  kann, 
Denn  du  allein  kannst  heilen,  grosser  Gott. 

The  musical  element  is  not  found  wanting  in  the  poet's 
description  of  storm  and  wind.  Again  we  are  able  to  dis- 
tinguish the  fine  feeling  and  the  trained  ear  of  the  musician  to 
whom  the  roaring  thunder,  the  surging  sea  and  the  howling 
wind  mean  infinitely  more  than  noise,  and  who  even  attempts 
to  classify  the  music  of  nature.  Like  frivolous  dance-music 
seems  to  Grillparzer  the  roaring  of  the  wind,  and  all  that  is 

"VII,  p.  77.  ^ovi,  p.  137. 


41 

leer  mid  leicht,  i.  e.,  frivolously  inclined,  is  seized  by  it  and 
whirled  around  in  loud  merriment  :^^ 

Wenn  starke  Winde  wehen, 
Dann  fliegt,  vom  Schwung  erreicht, 
Papier  und  diirre  Blatter, 
Was  irgend  leer  und  leicht. 

The  birds  take  no  part  in  the  wild  dance  because  they,  the  real 
musicians  of  nature,  feel  the  same  aversion  toward  dance- 
music  as  many  of  their  human  colleagues.  They  wait  patiently 
in  their  nests,  until  the  orgy  is  over : 

Doch  wenn  die  Stiirme  schweigen, 
Die  Sonne  wieder  lacht, 
Dann  sinkt  mit  eins  zu  Boden, 
Was  hob  des  Windes  Macht; 
Indes  die  kleinen  Vogel 
Hoch  fliegen  mit  Gcton. 

The  words  hoch  and  Geton  are  significant.  Hoch,  un- 
doubtedly, is  to  be  taken  as  contrast  to  the  light,  frivolous 
element  which  remains  much  nearer  to  the  earth,  while  Geton, 
which  is  equal  to  harmony,  or  any  other  related  term,  is  found 
wanting  in  the  references  to  storm  and  wind.  One  may  un- 
hesitatingly interpret  this  contrast  as  symbolic  of  the  gap 
between  trivial  and  ideal  music.  The  former,  as  one  may 
easily  comprehend,  has  but  little  attraction  for  Grillparzer,  so 
that  his  longing  for  the  cessation  of  storm  and  for  the  return 
of  nature's  calm  beauty  (in  which  the  birds'  song  is  an  im- 
portant element)  sounds  very  natural. 

Without  mentioning  any  of  the  many  useful  qualities  of 
rain,  Grillparzer  describes,  in  gloomy  language,  the  effect 
of  rainy  weather  upon  his  own  Stimmimg.  Still  better  ex- 
pressed, the  poem  Sendschreiben,^-  which  I  have  in  mind, 
shows  not  so  much  the  effect  of  rainy  weather  upon  his  mood 
as  the  reflection  of  his  melancholy  Sthnmung  through  the 
medium  of  rain.  Two  of  his  fair  friends  have  left  Gastein, 
the  pleasure  is  past — "  der  Freiide  Blumenkranz  serrissen." 
The  heavens  have  donned  black  mourning  and  weep  because 
of  this  loss: 

^^  Bases  Wetter,  II,  p.  70.  *=  III,  p.  12. 


42 

Es  hat  der  Himmel  sich  mit  schwarzem  Flor  behangt, 
Und  wcint  in  dicken,  schwcren  Tropfen ; 
So  sehr  man  ihn  mit  Flehn  und  Bitten  drangt, 
Nichts  kann  die  Schleusen  seines  Zorns  verstopfen. 

This  well  characterizes  our  poet's  general  attitude  toward  the 
phenomena  of  wind  and  rain. 

To  the  study  of  Grillparzer's  description  of  nature  belongs 
also  the  consideration  of  what  I  should  like  to  call  his 
general  description.  This  subject,  again,  has  two  subdivisions, 
viz.,  landscapes  and  comparisons. 

The  passages  which  I  have  been  able  to  collect  for  the 
study  of  Grillparzer's  landscape  paintings  are  too  numerous 
for  individual  discussion  at  this  place,  so  that  I  shall  have  to 
confine  myself  to  those  which  are  best  adapted  to  and,  con- 
sequently, most  important  for  the  present  purpose. 

On  the  whole,  Grillparzer's  landscapes  show  the  lavish, 
though  not  wasteful  hand  of  the  painter.  Very  rare,  there- 
fore, is  the  extreme  terseness  of  the  following  picture,^^  in 
Des  Mecrcs  und  der  Liehe  Wellen: 

Sei  du  erst  heim  in  deiner  dumpfen  Hiitte, 

Vom  Meer  bespiilt,  wo  rings  nur  Sand  und  Wellen 

Und  triibe  Wolken,  die  mit  Regen  draun ; 

It  will  be  admitted  that  the  outlines  of  this  picture  of  a  lonely 
strand  are  scant  enough,  but  the  effect  of  the  ensemble  is  far 
from  dull.  Only  two  significant  adjectives — diimpf  and  trilbe 
— which  characterize  the  whole  situation,  are  met  by  the 
weight  of  a  few  nouns  which  follow  one  another  almost  as 
rapidly  as  in  direct  enumeration:  Hiltte,  Meer,  Sand,  Wellen, 
Wolken,  Regen.  One  may  notice  the  logical  succession  of  the 
individual  parts  of  the  picture,  which  assigns  the  first  place 
to  the  sujet — Hiltte,  the  dwelling  of  Leander — then  follows 
the  milieu — Meer,  Sand,  Wellen — and  finally  the  background 
of  gloom  is  marked  by  Wolken  and  Regen. 

Not  so  terse,  though  just  as  plastic,  is  the  picture  drawn  in 
Grillparzer's  Diary  on  his  Italian  Journey.^*  On  reaching 
Sessana,  the  last  stop  before  Trieste,  he  finds  the  landscape 

^VII,  p.  31.  «XIX,  p.  197. 


43 

suddenly  transformed  into  a  desert.  And  this  desert  he  now 
proceeds  to  describe :  total  absence  of  all  signs  of  fertility ; 
now  and  then,  a  solitary  chestnut-tree,  with  withered  leaves, 
and  a  few  crippled  mulberry  bushes  are  sad  reminders  of 
what  might  have  been.  Rocks — a  sea  of  cold,  unsympathetic 
stone.  And  then  the  magnificent  reflection  which,  reviewing 
the  whole  picture  of  utter  desolation,  attributes  the  lack  of 
natural  beauty  to  the  curse  of  God.  Only  he  who  has  ever 
beheld  the  distressing  monotony  of  a  vast  expanse  of  desert 
land  can  fully  appreciate  the  words :  "  Es  war,  als  hatte  Gott 
hier  gestanden,  als  er  nach  dem  Falle  des  Alenschen  den  Fluch 
iiber  die  Erde  aussprach." 

We  do  not  look  in  vain  for  the  counterpart  of  this  picture 
of  despair.  It  is  drawn  by  the  king,  in  Die  Jildin  von 
Toledo,^^  who  describes  the  immeasurable  joy  of  the  traveler 
in  the  Arabian  desert,  on  finding,  at  last,  the  longed  for  oasis, 
the  bountiful  island  of  green  in  this  endless  sea  of  sand.  No 
stronger  contrast  can  be  imagined  than  that  which  is  here 
developed  before  our  eyes,  in  utmost  appreciation  of  nature's 
bounty : 

Da  bliihen  Blumen,  winkt  der  Baume  Schatten, 
Der  Krauter  Hauch  steigt  mildernd  in  die  Luft 
Und  wolbt  sich  unterm  Himmel  als  ein  zweiter. 
Zwar  ringelt  sich  die  Schlange  unterm  Busch, 
Ein  reissend  Tier,  von  gleichem  Durst  gequalt, 
Fand  etwa  seinen  Weg  zur  kiihlen  Quelle ; 
Doch  jubelt  auch  der  Wandrer  wegemiid, 
Und  saugt  mit  gier'gem  Mund  den  Labetrank 
Und  wirft  sich  in  des  Grases  iipp'gen  Wuchs. 

No  detail  is  here  forgotten,  though  thoroughness  is  hardly  the 
only  merit  of  this  description.  The  sujet  of  a  painting  must  be 
evident  from  the  ensemble,  and  that  the  present  picture,  even 
if  the  label  Oasis,  which  Grillparzer  places  at  the  head  of  it 
(in  the  five  lines  which  precede  the  above  quotation),  were 
lacking,  would  be  just  as  intelligible  and  clear,  needs  no  fur- 
ther argument.  In  addition  to  thoroughness  and  clearness, 
comes  the  painter's  greatest  merit :  the  naturalness  of  color 

"  IX,  p.  206. 


44 

which  endows  the  picture  with  such  intensity  of  Hght  and  Hfe. 
We  feel  the  cool  shade  of  the  trees,  we  smell  the  fragrance 
of  the  herbs,  and  we  appreciate  with  the  weary  wanderer  the 
draught  of  refreshing  water,  as  well  as  the  rest-inviting  couch 
of  luxurious  grass. 

The  overwhelming  impression  made  upon  Grillparzer  by 
Mount  Vesuvius  is  expressed  in  a  beautiful  description,  almost 
five  pages  in  length,  in  his  Diary  on  his  Italian  Journey.^°  Well 
distributed,  again,  is  the  magnificent  contrast  of  colors :  green 
in  the  foothills,  the  higher  portions,  near  the  crater,  black, 
set  off  by  a  deep-blue  sky;  glowing  red  the  smoke  at  the 
summit,  bluish-green  the  sea  far  below.  No  wonder  that  the 
inimitable  combination  of  such  colors  aroused  the  greatest 
enthusiasm:  "  .  .  .  ich  konnte  zmhrend  meines  ganzen  Aufent- 
halfs  in  Neapel  nicht  satt  zverden,  ihn  zu  betrachten  und  micli 
su  freuen."  The  hermitage  at  the  danger-line  appears  to  the 
poet  like  the  boundary  between  the  dominion  of  man  and  the 
unrestrained  freedom  of  nature.  Before  crossing  this  bound- 
ary, which  separates  him  from  the  black  horror  of  the  vast 
lava-fields,  he  turns  his  eyes  once  more  to  the  gentle  beauties 
of  nature  spread  out  at  the  base  of  the  terrible  volcano : 
Naples,  Castell  a  Mare,  Sorrento,  Vico  lie  there  amidst  nature's 
charms.  He  bids  them  farewell,  climbs  higher  and  higher, 
until  he  finally  stands  with  his  feet  on  the  superficially  cooled 
surface  of  a  fresh  lava-stream.  Instead  of  horror,  his  heart 
is  full  of  enthusiasm  and  awe.  He  kneels  at  the  throne  of 
nature's  majesty: 

Habe  Dank,  Natur,  dass  es  ein  Land  giebt,  wo  du  heraugehst  aus 
deiner  Werkeltagsgeschaftigkeit  und  dich  erweisest  als  Gotter- 
braut  und  Weltenkonigin,  habe  Dank !  Und  mir  sei  vergonnt,  dich 
von  Zeit  zu  Zeit  zu  schauen  in  deiner  Majestat,  wenn  du  mich  lang 
genug  ermiidet  in  deiner  Alltaglichkeit ! 

We  follow  the  poet  still  higher  up,  to  the  very  side  of  the 
crater,  which  now  begins  to  shower  huge  glowing  boulders 
over  all  the  surrounding  country.  A  loftier  spectacle  of  the 
power  of  nature  is  unimaginable :  we  feel  that  we  are  stand- 
ing   in    the    shadow    of    death. — The    description    of    Mount 

^0  XIX,  pp.  226  ff. 


45 

Vesuvius  ends  almost  abruptly  with  the  chmax  itself  which 
is,  undoubtedly,  the  death-bringing  crater;  almost  nothing  at 
all  is  said  about  the  following  descent.  This  is  not  due,  how- 
ever, to  the  fact  that  the  night  had  meantime  come,  but  to  the 
well-planned  purpose  of  the  poet.  The  entire  picture  of  the 
great  mountain  is  unfolded  before  us,  as  a  panorama  is 
unrolled  by  a  cinematograph.  We  follow  the  various  stages 
until  the  climax  is  reached,  and  here  Grillparzer  deliberately 
cuts  the  film  in  order  to  keep  our  attention  concentrated  upon 
the  all-inspiring  grandeur  of  nature. 

Grillparzer's  landscapes,  in  so  far  as  they  represent  the 
reflection  of  impressions  gained  on  travels  abroad,  are  full  of 
life,  color  and  enthusiasm,  but  they  are  not  the  best  which  his 
hand  was  able  to  draw.  Foglar  remarks  justly :^^  "The  first 
and  last,  from  which  Grillparzer  always  derived  the  greatest 
pleasure,  was  and  remained  his  immediate  home-territory. 
Here  were  the  very  roots  of  his  existence,  and  everything 
appeared  glorified  by  his  most  faithful  love  for  Austria."  The 
patriot  Grillparzer  surpassed  himself  in  his  unusually  plastic 
pictures  of  his  own  native  land.  Some  of  these  need  our  atten- 
tion. Primislaus'^'*  points  in  enthusiastic  language  to  the 
beautifully  situated  bed  of  the  Moldau  River.  He  likens  the 
river  itself  to  the  main  artery  of  the  whole  country  (Bohemia), 
the  source  of  blood  and  life.  The  rich  fertility  of  the  sur- 
rounding country,  and  its  mineral  wealth,  are  to  be  inferred 
from  the  proposal  of  Primislaus  to  build  ships  on  which  the 
Moldau  will  carry 

des  Landes  Uberfluss 
An  Frucht,  an  Korn,  an  Silber  und  an  Gold, 

far  beyond  the  Austrian  border,  to  the  distant  sea. 

The  two  best  Austrian  landscapes  are  contained  in  the 
ultra-Austrian  tragedy  Koiiig  Ottokars  Gliick  und  Endc.  One 
of  these^'*  is  drawn  by  Emperor  Rudolf  himself,  when  he  calls 
his  son's  attention  to  the  fact  that  he  has  now,  for  the  first 
time,  set  foot  on  Austrian  soil.  It  is  a  description  of  the 
March-field  on  which  Ottokar  was  to  meet  his  fate.  Rudolf 
calls  it  a  splendid  battle-field.     This,  however,  is  only  inci- 

^P.  8s.  ^Libussa,  VIII,  p.  203.  *"  VI,  p.  133. 


46 

dental.  The  true  purpose  of  a  field  is  fertility,  but  fertility- 
presupposes  peace.  Hence  Rudolf's  advice  to  his  first-born, 
to  devote  himself  to  the  maintenance  of  peace.  The  sight  of 
the  March-River  intensifies  this  picture  of  peaceful  fertility, 
while  in  the  distance,  "wo  noch  Nebel  ringt,"  loom  up  the 
dim  outlines  of  the  great  city  of  Vienna,  with  the  fair  Danube, 
a  personification  of  Austria's  wealth  and  power. — The  other 
picture"*'  is  contained  in  Horneck's  report  to  Emperor  Rudolf, 
concerning  the  unjustified  incarceration  of  his  Lord,  by 
Ottokar.  Only  an  Austrian  can  paint  a  picture  of  Austria 
with  such  glowing  colors ;  however,  we  are  far  from  reproach- 
ing the  poet  for  his  patriotic  partiality,  and  we  are  concerned 
here  solely  with  the  consideration  of  descriptive  beauty.  The 
painting  speaks  for  itself: 

Schaut  rings  umber,  wohin  der  Blick  sich  wendet, 

Lacht's  wie  dem  Brautigam  die  Braut  entgegen. 

Mit  hellem  Wiesengriin  und  Saatengold, 

Von  Lein  und  Safran  gelb  und  blau  gestickt, 

Von  Blumen  siiss  durchwiirzt  und  edlem  Kraut, 

Schvveift  es  in  breitgestreckten  Talern  bin — 

Ein  voller  Blumenstrauss,  so  wait  es  reicht, 

Vom  Silberband  der  Donau  rings  umwunden — 

Hebt  sich's  empor  zu  Hiigeln  voller  Wein, 

Wo  auf  und  auf  die  goldne  Traube  hangt 

Und  schwellend  reift  in  Gottes  Sonnenglanze ; 

Der  dunkle  Wald  voll  Jagdlust  kront  das  Ganze, 

Und  Gottes  lauer  Hauch  schwebt  driiber  bin 

Und  warmt  und  reift  und  macht  die  Pulse  schlagen, 

Wie  nie  ein  Puis  auf  kalten  Steppen  scblagt. 

So  dazzling  a  display  of  colors — griln,  gold,  gelb,  blaii,  silbern 
— cannot  be  found  again  in  any  other  of  the  poet's  landscapes. 
The  whole  represents,  as  he  expressly  states,  einen  vollen 
Blumenstrauss.  Nuptial  joy  is  spread  out  over  this  inimitable 
picture ;  love  here  rules  supreme : 

Und  Gottes  lauer  Haucb  schwebt  driiber  hm. 

Grillparzer's  ideas  concerning  poetry  apparently  make  com- 
parisons of  subjects  under  discussion,  with  nature,  a  matter  of 

^  VI,  pp.  86,  87. 


47 

course.  This  accounts,  perhaps,  for  the  abundance  of  such 
comparisons  a  selection  of  which  only  can  be  considered  here. 
Like  Heine,  Grillparzer  compares  the  characteristics  of  his 
sweetheart  with  those  of  a  flower.  His  lyric  language  is  not 
as  simple  and  as  fluent  as  that  of  the  author  of  Du  bist  zvie 
eine  Blumc,  but  his  pictures  are  often  just  as  bold: 

Dass  dein  Kleid  rosenrot, 
Find'  ich  recht  fein, 
Kann's,  wo  der  Giirtel  schliesst, 
Anders  wohl  sein? 
Denn  wo  im  Lenz  ich  sah 
Knospchen  am  Rain 
Gaben  sic  ahnlichen 
Blassroten  Schein." 

In  the  same  poem,  Grillparzer  likens  the  eyes  of  his  beloved 
to  forget-me-nots,  and  her  blond  hair  to  the  bright  yellow  of 
a  maturing  cornfield.  In  the  poem  Bcgcgnung,^-  the  counte- 
nance of  the  adored  woman  recalls  roses, 

.  .  .  aber  nicht  wie  rote, 

Wie  weisser  Rosen  Schmelz  im  Morgentau, 

and  her  beautiful  gray  eyes  are  bathed  in  dew.  Her  lips 
exhale  the  fragrance  of  flowers. — Individual  beauty  of  woman 
is  also  expressed  by  means  of  individual  flowers.  This  is 
done  by  Naukleros,'*^  who,  in  speaking  of  the  multitude  of 
maidens  that  crowded  about  him  and  Leander,  in  Aphrodite's 
temple,  distinguishes 

.  .  .  bunte  Blumen, 

So  Ros'  als  Nelke,  Tulpe,  Veilchen,  Lilie — 

Ein  Gansebliimchen  auch  wohl  ab  und  zu — 

Not  only  beauty,  but  also  youth  is  often  compared  with 
flowers.  Eurcr  Jiigend  Bhmicnzcit,  says  Jaqueline  to  Blanka  f* 
Medea  complains  that  Jason's  ambition  has  killed  die  sclwncn 
Bliiten  von  dem  Jugendbaum,^^  and,  in  the  same  passage,  she 
pleads  with  him  to  turn  back  once  more  to  the  beautiful  time 
of  youth  and  love: 

^^  Huldigungen,  II,  pp.  30,  31.  '"11,  p.  36. 

''VII,  p.  33.  "X,  p.  29. 

'"V,  p.  191. 

5 


48 

Nur  einen  Schritt  komm  in  die  schone  Zeit, 
Da  wir  in  unsrer  Jugend  frischem  Griinen 
Uns  fanden  an  des  Phasis  Blumenstrand. 

The  period  of  youth  and  happiness,  free  from  care  and  danger, 
is,  likewise,  characterized  by  Medea's  sarcastic  words  addressed 
to  her  innocent  and  inexperienced  rival  Kreusa.  The  early 
part  of  life  is  here  compared  with  a  tiny  boat  drifting  stream- 
downward,  and  Kreusa,  the  youthful  occupant  of  the  craft, 
clings  an  des  Ufers  Blutenzweigcn.^^ — In  a  description  of  the 
virginal  beauty  of  youth  given  by  Phaon,^"  the  same  idea 
reoccurs,  the  fair  form  of  Sappho  having  made  upon  him  the 
impression  of  BlumenJmgel. 

Life  itself  is  frequently  called  a  tree.  The  best  example, 
perhaps,  for  the  poetic  use  of  this  metaphor  is  contained  in 
Blanka's  life-weary  words  :^* 

O  lass  mich  sterben !     An  dem  Baum  des  Lebens 

1st  mir  im  Keim  ersticket  jede  Frucht, 

Soil  traurig  ich  die  welken  Blatter  sammein, 

Bis  sie  der  Tod  von  diirren  Asten  schiittelt? 

Gib  mir  den  Tod,  Allgiitiger !  den  Tod  ! 

Des  Lebens  Freuden  hast  du  mir  genommen, 

So  nimm  denn  auch  dies  kahle  Leben  bin ! 

The  majority  of  other  references  merely  speak  of  "Der  Baum 
des  Lebens  " ;  the  above  quotation  represents  one  of  two  pas- 
sages in  which  the  picture  is  fully  drawn.  The  other  may  be 
found  in  the  poem  Einem  Soldaten.^^ 

To  mention  all  the  comparisons  with  nature  which  Grill- 
parzer  used  would  lead  too  far;  a  booklet,  one  half  the  size 
of  Henkel's  Das  Goethesche  Gleichnis,  Halle,  1886,  might 
easily  be  filled  with  a  treatment  of  Grillparzer's  metaphors, 
and  details  would  be  more  in  order  there  than  here.  For  my 
present  purpose  a  few  indications  must  suffice. 

In  the  poem  Worte  des  Abschieds/^°  Grillparzer  compares 
the  voice  of  the  Muses  with  the  Chor  der  Sphdren,  the  music 
of  nature,  which  is  intelligible  only  to  the  thorough  student,. 

"^v,  p.  147.  »nv,  p.  147. 

°'X,  p.  192.  »MI,  p.  140. 

^■^iii,  pp.  24, 25. 


49 

Avhile  the  beginner  misinterprets  what  he  hears.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  three  Muses  who  favored  our  poet  most  (Melpo- 
mene, Terpsichore  and  Euterpe),  made  him  feel  the  necessity 
of  selecting  a  place  where  the  natural  surroundings  would  be 
most  suitable.  The  poem  Wenn  der  Vogel  singen  will  .  .  .  "^ 
shows  us  Grillparzer  in  search  of  such  a  place.  The  birds  are 
here  made  bearers  of  the  ideas  of  music  and  poetry: 

Wenn  der  Vogel  singen  will, 

Sucht  er  einen  Ast, 

Nur  die  Lerche  tragt  beim  Sang 

Eigne  leichte  Last. 

Doch  der  Fink,  die  Nachtigall, 

Selbst  der  muntre  Spatz, 

Wahlen,  eh  die  Kehle  tont, 

Fiir  den  Fuss  den  Platz. 

Gebt  mir,  wo  ich  stehen  soil, 

Weist  mir  ein  Gebiet, 

Und  ich  will  euch  wohl  erfreu'n 

Noch  mit  manchem  Lied. 

In  Germany  rules  storm  and  stress,  in  Austria  dunkcH's  ticf 
and  there  is  oppression  from  the  clergy  (Dohloi  schzcarc), 
ignorance  among  the  bureaucracy  {Kaus  und  Eule),  non- 
sensical talk  on  the  part  of  critics  (Staar>iiata),  while  the 
people  at  large  (Frdsche)  show  the  traditional  lack  of  intel- 
ligent appreciation.  No  wonder  that  Grillparzer  does  not 
know  in  which  direction  to  turn : 

Und  so  schweb'  ich  ew'gen  Flugs 
Zwischen  Erd'  und  Luft, 
Und  kein  Platz  dem  muden  Fuss, 
Als  dereinst  die  Gruft. 

Very  impressive  is  also  the  comparison  of  the  soothing 
notes  which,  coming  from  the  chapel  where  the  funeral  rites 
are  held  over  the  body  of  Count  Borotin,  penetrate  the  very 
soul  of  the  patricide  Jaromir,  while  silver  swans  glide  softly 
over  a  troubled  sea:^"^ 

Sauselt,  sauselt,  holde  Tone, 
Sauselt  lieblich  um  mich  her, 

^°' II,  pp.  44,  45-  >»=IV,  p.  IIS. 


50 

Sanft  und  weich,  wie  Silberschwane 
Uber  ein  bewegtes  Meer, 
Schiittelt  cure  weichen  Schwingen, 
Traufelt  Balsam  auf  dies  Herz, 
Lasst  die  Himmelslieder  klingen, 
Einzuschlafern  meinen  Schmerz. 


Ill 

Grillparzer's  Interpretation  of  Nature 

While,  in  the  preceding  chapter,  I  was  concerned  to  show 
the  range  and  character  of  Grillparzer's  feeling  for  nature; 
what  aspects  of  the  outer  world  appealed  to  him  most,  and 
how  this  appeal  is  poetically  denoted ;  the  present  chapter  will 
be  concerned  more  with  the  meaning  of  nature's  message :  in 
other  words,  with  Grillparzer's  interpretation  of  nature's 
voices,  and  his  attitude  toward  nature  as  a  whole.  It  is  true 
that  description  and  interpretation  interblend  more  or  less, 
so  that  it  is  not  possible  to  keep  them  entirely  apart;  never- 
theless, the  distinction  can  be  made  in  a  rough  way,  and  the 
present  chapter  is  thus  devoted  to  the  consideration  of  those 
passages  on  the  basis  of  which  one  may  study  the  poet's  phi- 
losophy of  nature. 

An  analysis  of  Grillparzer's  interpretation  of  nature  is  not 
a  speculative  matter,  necessitating  to  read  between  the  lines 
or  to  seek  for  some  cryptic  significance;  on  the  contrary,  the 
poet's  language  is  at  all  times  clear  and  free  from  disturbing 
circumlocutions.^  Thus  it  is  possible  to  base  all  conclusions 
upon  actual  facts  rather  than  upon  a  number  of  loosely  con- 
nected hypotheses. 

In  the  first  place,  a  multitude  of  passages  show  that,  for 
Grillparzer,  nature  is  not  a  mechanism  but  a  conscious  being. 
With  him,  all  nature  represents  a  living,  feeling,  and  thinking 
personality.  Nothing  nature  may  do  bears  the  least  resem- 
blance to  the  thoughtless  indifference  and  mechanicalness  with 
which  many  human  beings  perform  their  assigned  tasks.  In 
nature,  then,  there  is,  at  all  times,  a  pronounced  consciousness 

^  Compare  with  this  statement  the  words  of  Ehrhard,  Le  Theatre  en 
Auiriche,  Paris,  1900,  p.  115:  "His  (Grillparzer's)  lyric  works  have  not  the 
ingenuous  charm  or  the  transparent  form  of  Goethe's  Lieder  or  ballads. 
Although  full  of  emotion,  they  reveal  a  certain  painfulness  and  calculation, 
which  at  times  culminate  in  obscurity." 

51 


52 

of  purpose,  from  which  alone  may  spring  her  joy  of  Hving. 
Most  keen  is  nature's  ambition  in  the  early  hours  of  morning 
when,  with  a  new  day,  begins  new  activity,  new  life,  new  joy. 
The  sun  knows  what  he  is  doing  as  he  pours  his  red  light  over 
the  tree-tops,  the  bushes  become  alive  with  the  song  of  birds, 
even  grass  and  foliage  reflect  new  energy  in  the  nightly  dew 
which  the  morning-sun  has  not  yet  been  able  to  remove,  and 
the  lark  sings  a  herscrhebend  Juhellied:- 

Und  alias  wacht  und  lebt  und  freut  sich  seines  Lebens. 

The  mere  consciousness  of  being  light,  i.  e.,  beauty,  is  not  suffi- 
cient to  satisfy  the  sun,  but  coupled  with  it  is  the  realization 
of  the  function  of  light.^  Consciousness  of  purpose,  now, 
results  in  calm  contentment  with  the  circumstances  in  which 
nature  lives :  her  path  lies  outlined  before  her,  and  her  duty 
is  a  source  of  pleasure,  rather  than  of  misery.  This  idea  is 
set  forth  in  the  poem  Pfianzemvelt^  The  same  poem  shows 
also  that  nature's  heart  knows  nothing  of  envy.  The  fragrance 
of  the  rose  thus  fails  to  fill  the  lofty  oak  with  shame,  and  the 
rose  itself  continues  to  fulfil  its  purpose,  undisturbed  by  the 
fact  that  it  has  nothing  to  give  but  fragrance,  while  a  sloe- 
tree,  in  its  immediate  neighborhood,  is  laden  down  with  fruit. 
The  importance,  according  to  Grillparzer,  lies  with  the  genus 
rather  than  with  the  species,  with  the  cause  itself  rather  than 
with  the  effect.    Or,  as  Bertha  significantly  expresses  it:° 

Schmetterlinge,  bunte  Gaukler, 
Die  die  keusche  Rose  kiissen, 
Aber  nicht,  weil  sie  die  Rose, 
Weil  sie  eine  Blutne  ist. 

Another  phase  of  nature's  consciousness  is  her  obedience  to 
law.  Nature  is  thus  aware  of  the  eternal  law  by  which  it  is 
governed,  and  it  at  all  times  obeys  the  law.  This  law  of  nature, 
which  Kascha*'  calls  Notigimg,  is  universal,  wise,  unchangeable, 
and  ever-valid.  Without  law  there  is  anarchy  and  chaos.  The 
Rhine,  therefore  (cf.  the  poem  Diplomatischy  obediently 
follows  the  path  which  God    (nature)   has  mapped  out;  the 

^  Wer  ist  scliuldig?,  X,  p.  227.  ^  Treiier  Dicner,  VI,  p.  211. 

*IV,  p.  48.  ^I,  p.  174. 

«VIII,  p.   169.  ''II,  p.  102. 


53 

river  is  conscious  of  the  consequences  which  would  arise  from 
disobedience : 

Denn  ohne  Ufer  war'  er  "Uberschwemmung, 
Ein  greulich  Mittelding  von  See  und  Sumpf, 
Aus  dem  die  Sonne  feuchte  Nebel  zieht, 
Von  Unken  nur  bewohnt  und  ihrer  Brut. 

According  to  this  law,  nature  is  ever  new,  because  the  process 
of  reproduction  is  constantly  going  on.  Every  spring  brings  a 
fresh  supply  of  foliage,  and  this  takes  the  place  of  last  year's 
foliage  which  is  now  a  matter  of  the  past:  Tlavra  fel.  In- 
dividual strength  is  most  essential  for  him  who  deserves  to 
remain  on  the  surface  of  this  rapidly  flowing  stream :  the  weak 
must  perish  in  order  to  make  room  for  the  development  of  their 
superiors  in  endurance  and  vitality:  the  survival  of  the  fittest 
is  a  physical  necessity.  In  Jngenderinnertingen  im  Grilnen^ 
Grillparzer  alludes  to  this  law. 

The  law  of  nature,  now,  embodies  not  only  physical,  but  also 
economic,  logical  and  moral  principles.  Grillparzer  does  not 
neglect  any  of  these,  but  rather  than  mention  them  as  parts  of 
the  law,  he  assigns  a  place  to  them  as  components  of  nature's 
personality.  The  economic  character  of  nature  is  emphasized 
in  various  places.  Nature  herself  represents  wealth.  This 
wealth  is  safe  in  the  hands  of  nature,  because  she  is  a  thrifty 
manager  who  distributes  it  wisely  and  fairly.  A  lavish  ex- 
penditure, carefully  noted  on  one  page  of  her  ledger,  is  bal- 
anced, on  the  other,  by  conscientious  economy.  So  in 
F  ortschrittsmdnner  :^ 

AUein  bedenkt  doch !     Die  Natur  ist  sparsam 
Mit  Gleichem,  seit  dem  Anfang  halt  sic  Haus, 
Was   allzuviel,  nimmt  'riick  sie  in   Gewahrsam 
Und  gleicht  durch  Kargheit  die  Verschwendung  aus. 

On  the  other  hand,  nature's  thoroughness  is  a  safeguard 
against  losses.     All  she  undertakes  is  finished  and  complete. 

The  infaUible  logic  and  consistency  of  nature  is  referred  to 
with  almost  exactly  the  same  words.  It  is  impossible  for 
nature  to  contradict  herself   (cf.  Sappho  and  Blanka),^°  for 

*  I,  p.  229.  •  II,  p.  205. 

^"IV,  p.  183,  and  X,  p.  186. 


54 

the  very  reason  that  nature  is  embodied  truth.  This  is 
poetically  expressed  by  Gregor  (Weh  dem,  der  lilgt!)  :" 

Wahr  ist  die  ganze  kreisende  Natur; 
Wahr  ist  der  Wolf,  der  briillt,  eh  er  verschlingt, 
■  Wahr  ist  der  Donner,  drohend,  wenn  es  blitzt, 
Wahr  ist  die  Flamme,  die  von  fern  schon  sengt, 
Die  Wasserflut,  die  heulend  Wirbel  schlagt; 
Wahr  sind  sie,  weil  sie  sind,  weil  Dasein  Wahrheit. 

Here  lies  the  great  contrast  between  nature  and  man,  between 
God  and  his  fallen  image.  Rudolf  (Bruderszvist) ,^^  as  well 
as  Pedro  (Blanka),^^  deplore  the  sad  condition  of  affairs 
which  leaves  such  an  abyss  between  the  lofty  path  of  the  god- 
head and  the  crooked  road  of  cunning  and  deception  trodden 
by  the  erring  foot  of  man. 

The  logical  element  leads  over  directly  to  the  moral.  The 
conscious  choice  of  truth,  in  preference  to  untruth,  is  one  of 
nature's  many  virtues.  The  heart  of  nature  is  true  and  pure ! 
A  pure  heart,  now,  shudders  at  the  thought  of  evil,  and  is 
horrified  by  depravity.  So  Jaromir^*  is  obliged  to  continue  on 
his  terrible  path  of  wanton  bloodshed,  in  spite  of  nature's 
revolt,  and  the  mere  sight  of  Don  Pedro's^^  wretched  counselors 
causes  nature  to  shrink  away  in  horror.  Only  he  who  is  free 
from  sin  has  the  right  to  cast  the  first  stone.  Nature,  there- 
fore, is  entitled  to  the  privilege  of  avenging  wrong.  She  is  the 
power  to  which  man  appeals  in  the  moment  of  extreme  agony, 
when  he  realizes  his  own  helplessness.  "  Von  euch,  ihr 
Kraniche  dort  ohen,"  Schiller's  Ibykus  exclaims,  and  Grill- 
parzer's  Phryxus^*'  expresses  exactly  the  same  idea  when  he 
appeals  to  the  thunder  of  the  gods,  to  wreak  vengeance  upon 
his  faithless  host: 

So  treffe  dich  der  Gotter  Donnerfluch, 
Der  liber  dem  rollt,  der  die  Treue  bricht. 

Nature  herself,  however,  does  not  look  upon  the  act  of 
vengeance  as  a  pleasurable  privilege,  but  as  a  duty ;  and  in  the 
performance  of  duty  she  is  pitiless   and  unrestrainable.     It 

"VIII,  p.   12.  ^2  IX,  p.  25. 

"X,  p.  103.  "IV,  p.  119. 

"X,  p.  113.  "V,  p.  30. 


55 

falls  to  Leander's  lot  to  make  this  sad  experience,  and  Hero^'^ 
calls  attention  to  the  plight  of  her  swimming  lover,  in  his  futile 
struggle  against  the  raging  elements.  In  vain  is  his  appeal  to 
the  sympathy  of  nature ;  sea,  storm  and  darkness  unite  for  his 
destruction ;  nature  loses  heart,  ear  and  eye,  in  this  lofty 
combat  between  right  and  wrong.  Leander  must  pay  the 
penalty  for  his  guilt.  This  avenging  role  of  nature  is  evident 
also  indirectly  from  the  method  pursued  by  her  in  making 
wrong  visible,  for  the  protection  of  right.  We  have  to  deal 
here  with  the  mark  of  Cain,  by  means  of  which  nature  desires 
to  warn  and  frighten  : 

Mit  blut'gcr  Flammenschrift  hat  die  Natur 
Auf  deinem  Antlitz  "  Morder  "  dich  gescholten. 

With  these  significant  words  Fedriko^'^  shows  that  he  is  aware 
of  Haro's  character,  and  that  he  divines  the  latter's  gloomy 
mission.  At  times,  the  very  aspect  of  nature  may  frighten  the 
evil-doer  and  make  him  drop  his  nefarious  schemes.  This 
causes  Medea,  who  has  once  before  yielded  to  the  unrighteous 
demand  of  her  father,  to  refuse  him  obedience  a  second  time. 
Even  though  this  refusal  be  only  temporary — Aietes  finally 
wins  her  over  by  proving  to  her  that  the  lives  of  himself  and 
Absyrtus  are  at  stake — Medea's  wavering  sufificiently  estab- 
lishes the  point  :^^ 

Glaubst  du,  ich  konnt's,  ich  vermocht'  es? 

Hundertmal  hab'  ich  aufgeblickt 

Zu  den  glanzenden  Zeichen 

Am  Firmament  der  Nacht, 

Und  alle  hundert  Male 

Sanken  meine  Blicke, 

Von  Schreck  getroffen,  unbelehrt, 

Es  schien  der  Himmel  mir  ein  aufgerolltcs  Buch, 

Und  Mord  darauf  geschrieben,  tausendfach, 

Und  Rache  mit  demantnen  Lettern 

Auf  seinem  schwarzen  Grund. 

Grillparzer  appears  to  be  extremely  careful  to  make  the 
interpretation  of  nature  as  a  moral  power  as  complete  as 
possible.     A  being  with  the  consciousness  of  right  and  wrong, 

"VII,  p.  95.  '»x,  p.  133.  "V,  p.  41. 


56 

without  ever  doing  wrong,  cannot  be  devoid  of  the  sense  of 
justice.  Nature,  therefore,  is  called  blind,^^  and  her  ideal  im- 
partiality is  emphasized  in  Blanka.-^  Rich  and  poor,  king  and 
beggar,  find  like  favor  in  nature's  eyes,  and  the  fairest  gift 
which  she  has  bestowed  upon  all,  without  discrimination,  is  the 
very  reflection  of  her  ideal  goodness  which  appears  in  man  as 
rcine  Menschlichkeit: 

Der  schone  Name  Mensch,  den  die  Natur 

Dem  Bettler  wie  dem  Konig  giitig  gab, 

Den  schonsten,  den   sie  ihnen  geben  konnte." 

Again,  Grillparzer  looks  upon  nature  as  the  visible  personi- 
fication of  the  ideas  of  eternity  and  freedom.  Only  the  deity 
rules  forever — the  law  of  nature  is  ever  the  same.  What  a 
contrast,  therefore,  between  nature  and  man  who  is  constantly 
changing  in  accordance  with  the  circumstances. 

So  wandellos,  sich  gleich  ist  die  Natur, 

So  wandelbar  der  Mensch  und  sein  Geschick, 

says  Medea,^^  while  Scipio,^*  boasting  of  the  regularity  of  the 
Roman  machinery  of  state,  likens  it  to  the  perpetuity  of  nature : 

Vom  Wechsel  frei  und  unaufhaltsam,  wie 
Der  Wesen  Kreis  im  Umschwung  der  Natur, 
Geht  unsers  Staates  immer  kreisend  Rad ; 
Das  Einzelne  wird  wohl  erwagt,  das  Ganze — 
Wie  Winter  sich  und  Sommer,  Herbst  und  Lenz 
Mit  Sturm  und  Sonne,  Herbst  und  Bliite  folgen — 
Bleibt  sich  in  ewig  gleichen  Bahnen  gleich. 

In  numerous  passages,  nature  appears  as  the  idea  of  free- 
dom. This  alone  is  an  inspiration  to  the  poet  who,  like  a  bird 
in  the  cage,  is  unable  to  sing,^^  unless  he  shares  the  freedom  of 
nature.     This    freedom,   the    breath   of   nature,    in    Rustan's 

^  Die  Tdnzerin,  III,  p.  21. 
=^X,  p.  155: 

Die  Macht  zum  Grossen  kommt  von  innen,  und 

Parteiisch  hat  nie  die  Natur  geteilt ; 

Es  bliihn  in  jedes  Menschen  stolzer  Brust 

Die  Zeugen  der  Gottahnlichkeit. 
"^X,  p.  45.  =^V,  p.  217. 

•*  Hannibal,  XII,  p.  130.  "'II,  p.  175. 


57 

language,-*^  is  "the  mother  of  all,"  the  uplifting  influence  of 
the  universe,  and  only  he  who  is  free  is  capable  of  an  intelli- 
gent appreciation  of  nature.-^  Without  freedom,  nature  is  an 
impossibility :  the  very  roots  of  nature's  strength  are  planted  in 
this  precious  soil,  and  they  will  suffer  no  interference.  The 
young  pine-tree  will  break  the  yoke  imposed  by  human  hands, 
and  the  unfortunate  plant  grown  in  the  hot-house'^  betrays  by 
its  pallor  the  nearness  of  death.  An  attempt  to  pacify  the 
roaring  of  the  wind,  and  to  subdue  the  mighty  upheaval  of  the 
sea^^  is  a  ridiculous  exhibition  of  human  frailty,  for  nature  is 
free,  knows  freedom,  and  claims  it  as  her  privilege.  Woe 
unto  him  who  dares  encroach  upon  her  sacred  rights : 

Denn  der  Natur  allher  notwend'ge  Machte, 
Sie  hassen,  was  sich  freie  Bahnen  zieht, 
Als  vorenthalten  ihrem  ew'gen  Rechte, 
Und  reissen's  lauernd  in  ihr  Machtgebiet.'" 

To  the  poet  belongs  all  nature.     Not  only  a  part  of  the  god- 
head, but  God  Himself: 

Wo  warst  du  denn,  als  man  die  Welt  geteilet? 
Ich  war,  sprach  der  Poet,  bei  dir.^^ 

Thus  all  nature  is,  for  Grillparzer,  not  only  an  inspiration  of 
poetry,  but  rather  poetry  itself.  This  makes  nature  an  end, 
not  a  means,  and  nature  and  poetry  become  inseparable.  There 
is  poetry  in  a  landscape,  in  a  waterfall,  in  a  tree  which  has 
been  set  aflame  by  lightning,  in  the  fragrance  of  flowers,  and 
in  the  chorus  of  the  birds.  Nature  speaks  in  rhythmic  lan- 
guage, and  all  the  poet  has  to  do  is  to  transcribe  the  voice  of 
nature,  not  imitate  it.  Grillparzer  faithfully  recorded  what  he 
saw  and  heard,  and  thus  his  nature-poetry  is  the  result  of  his 
communication  with  nature.  The  wonderful  interpretation  of 
nature's  voice  in  the  poem  Am  Hilgel,^-  is  so  clear  that  further 
comment  seems  unnecessary: 

O  Hiigel !  sanft  von  Steinen  aufgeschichtet, 
Die  saftig  Gras  und  Alpenmoos  umzicht, 

'"VII,  p.  174.  ^  Klostcrscene,  I,  p.  202, 

-"Nachruf,  II,  p.  71.  "^  Dlaiika,  X,  p.  47. 

^^  I,  p.  129.  "Schiller,  Teilung  der  Erdc. 

"I,  p.  143- 


58 

Von  dcincm  Haupt  ein  Baum  emporgerichtet, 

An  dem  die  Vogclbeere  gliiht; 
Indes  am  Fuss,  in  buntgemischter  Reihe, 

Der  Schwarzbeer'  dunkle  Frucht  und  helles  Kraut, 
Hoch  iiberragt  von  Weidrichs  Veilchenblaue, 

Dir  einen  Thron,  sich  eine  Freistatt  baut; 
Wie  schon  blickst  du  herab  von  deiner  Hohe, 

Wie  wiirdig  stellst  du  dich  dem  Auge  dar ! 
Der  Wandrer  steht  entziickt  in  deiner  Nahe, 

Und  sucht  beinah  nach  Weihort  und  Altar. 
Gewiss  auch,  rollten  noch  die  alten  Zeiten, 

Da  unentzweit  der  Gott  und  die  Natur, 
Ein  Schutzgott  wiirde  hier  sich  Sitz  bereiten, 

Wo  Graser  jetzt,  hilflose  Blumen  nur. 
Doch,  da  ich  solches  kaum  gewagt  zu  denken, 

Straft  Liigen  mich  ein  schauerndes  Gefiihl ; 
Ich  fiihie  Geister  sich  herniedersenken, 

Und  mich  umlispeln  in  der  Winde  Spiel. 
Erinnrung  kommt,  der  stillvertraute  Zeuge 

Von  dem,  -was  einst  das  Gliick  mir  hier  verlieh. 
Und  wie  geschlossnen  Augs  ich  mich  hiniiberneige, 

An  ihrer  Hand  die  Poesie. 

Let  us  now  consider  Grillparzer's  feeling  for  Solitude.  On 
this  subject  we  get  light  from  what  he  says  of  Rousseau  in  his 
Studicn  siir  Literatiir.^^  Rousseau  is  there  characterized  as 
the  egotist  par  excellence,  whose  every  thought  and  act  centers 
around  his  own  person,  and  who  seeks  solitude  only  "  because 
there  only  did  he  find  the  only  thing  of  interest  to  him  in  all 
the  world,  viz.,  himself,  his  thoughts,  his  emotions!"  Grill- 
parzer  then  goes  on  to  show  that  Rousseau,  notwithstanding 
his  own  opinion  in  this  matter,  was  ruled  by  his  thoughts 
rather  than  by  his  feelings,  by  his  intellect  rather  than  by  his 
heart.  Such  a  condition,  especially  in  solitude,  has  fatal  results 
according  to  Grillparzer : 

Wenn  man  sich  seinen  Gedanken,  zumal  in  der  Einsamkeit,  ganz 
hingibt,  so  verschlingen  sie  die  ganze  Welt,  nahren  sich  mit  allem, 
was  darin  fiir  sie  geniessbar  ist,  und  bleiben  zuletzt  allein  mit  dem, 
der  sie  tragt,  in  einer  wesens-  und  freudenlosen  Wiiste. 

="XVI,  pp.  131  ff. 


59 

The  egotistic  attitude  of  Rousseau  toward  the  world  could  find 
no  echo  of  understanding,  to  say  nothing  of  approval,  with  a 
man  who,  like  Grillparzer,  was  all  heart,  all  feeling.  And  yet, 
Grillparzer  calls  himself  the  brother  of  Rousseau ;  like  Jason, 
he  feels  "  Voll  Selbstheit,  nicht  des  Nutzens,  doch  des  Sinnes." 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  Grillparzer's  interpretation  of  solitude  has 
little  resemblance  to  that  of  Rousseau.  There  is  no  relation 
whatever  between  the  two  men,  in  spite  of  the  fraternal  allu- 
sion mentioned  above.  The  satire  which  Grillparzer's 
Mephistopheles  pours  over  Rousseau's  doctrine  best  expresses 
the  poet's  personal  attitude  in  the  matter  :^* 

Muss  doch  ein  wenig  spionieren, 
Wo  main  vertrackter  Doktor  ist, 
Der  nach  Rousseau  auf  alien  Vieren 
Hier  unter  dieses  Waldes  Tieren 
Des  Gliicks,  ein  Mensch  zu  sein,  geniesst 
Und  Wasser  sauft  und  Eicheln  frisst. 

And  in  the  same  passage  we  hear  Faust  complain  that  solitude 
has  not  bestowed  upon  him  those  blessings  which  he  expected — 
rest  and  peace : 

O  Einsamkeit,  wie  hast  du  mich  betrogen, 
Als  ich  an  deinen  stillen  Busen  floh, 
Du  hast  mir  Ruh  und  Frieda  vorgalogan, 
Und  ach !  nun  find'  ich  dich  nicht  so ! 

This  passage  can  be  interpreted  only  in  the  light  of  the  preced- 
ing one:  Grillparzer  here  means  that  one  who  seeks  solitude, 
as  Rousseau  did,  will  not  derive  the  satisfaction  which  would  be 
his  if  he  went  solely  with  the  purpose  of  being  in  direct  com- 
munication with  nature  herself.  Like  Rousseau,  Grillparzer 
is  fond  of  seclusion,  but  his  love  of  solitude  is  a  matter  of  his 
soul,  not  of  his  intellect,  and  his  appreciation  of  the  beauty  of 
solitude  springs,  therefore,  from  an  entirely  different  source. 
The  conscious  longing  for  solitude  on  Grillparzer's  part  lies  in 
his  character — the  poet  is  melancholy;  hostile  to  the  noisy 
pleasures  of  society ;  full  of  fantastic  dreams,  and  hence  often 
uncommunicative;  endowed  with  the  vibrating  nerves  of  a 
musician  which  are  easily  unbalanced.     On  the  other  hand,  the 

^^  Faust,  XI,  p.  255,  256. 


60 

poet's  longing  for  solitude  is,  to  a  certain  extent,  also  the  result 
of  his  personal  experiences :  like  a  haven  of  rest  and  safety 
seem  to  the  misunderstood,  wronged  and  persecuted  poet  the 
arms  of  solitude.  His  anxiety  to  be  alone  with  nature  arises 
from  causes  similar  to  those  which  make  Lord  Byron  seek 
solitude,  but  while  Byron  is  fond  of  solitary  communion  with 
nature  when  the  latter  is  in  an  angry  mood,  Grillparzer  prefers 
the  quiet  of  solitude ;  and,  unlike  Rousseau  who  would  wander 
about  aimlessly,  unconcerned  whether  he  would  find  his  way 
back  or  not,^^  Grillparzer  is,  at  times,  overcome  with  fear  that 
he  has  ventured  too  far  beyond  the  realm  of  man ;  blindly  he 
has  followed  the  muse  to  a  lofty  height  which  the  voice  of  the 
world  can  hardly  reach: 

Halt  ein,  Unselige  !     Halt  ein  ! 
Wohin  verlockst  dti  mich  ? 
Uber  Berge  bin  ich  gekommen, 
Durch  Schliinde  dir  gefolgt. 
Kein  Pfad  ist,  wo  ich  trete,  keine  Spur, 
Fern  herauf  tont  der  Menschen  Stimme, 
Tont  der  Harden  frohliches  Gelaut' 
Und  des  Waldbachs  Rauschen.^* 

Generally,  however,  Grillparzer  finds  in  solitude  what  he  longs 
for :  rest,  quiet,  happiness.  Phaon's  words^^  well  express  the 
deep  significance  which  Grillparzer  attaches  to  quiet  solitude : 

Wohl  mir!     Hier  ist  es  still.     Des  Gastmahls  Jubel, 

Der  Zimbelspieler  Larm,  der  Floten  Tone, 

Der  losgelassnen  Freude  lautes  Regen, 

Es  tont  nicht  bis  hier  unter  diese  Baume, 

Die,  leise  fliisternd,  wie  besorgt,  zu  storen, 

Zu  einsamer  Betrachtung  freundlich  laden. 

This  preference  for  solitude  is  the  only  trait  which  Sappho  and 
Phaon  have  in  common,  but  even  here  there  is  a  contrast 
between  the  two,  caused  by  the  difference  in  purpose  which 
guides  either  along  the  path  of  loneliness.     Phaon  seeks  soli- 

^  Cf.  Rousseau,  ed.  Hachette,  VIII,  p.  ii6  :  "  Un  jour  entre  autres,  m'etant 
a  dessein  detourne  pour  voir  de  pres  un  lieu  qui  me  parut  admirable,  je 
m'y  plus  si  fort  et  j'y  fis  tant  de  tours  que  je  me  perdis  enfin  tout-a-fait." 

^  Die  tragische  Muse,  I,  p.  159. 

^IV,  p.  156. 


61 

tude  because  he  loves — Melitta,  while  Sappho's  longing  is 
prompted  by  the  needs  of  genius :  Es  bildet  ein  Talent  sich  in 
der  Stillc}^  In  Sappho,  Grillparzer  shows  not  only  the  rela- 
tion between  poetry  and  reality,  between  genius  and  man,  but 
in  establishing  this  relation,  he  permits  us  at  the  same  time 
to  look  deep  into  his  own  tormented  heart.  Sappho  expresses 
Grillparzer's  own  feelings  when,  overcome  by  disappointment 
and  despair,  she  would  rather  be  banished  into  the  solitude  of 
nature  zvith  the  belief  in  Phaon's  love  than  continue  life  in  her 
present  surroundings,  where  Phaon's  treachery  brought  such 
unspeakable  misery  upon  her.  With  rough  hands  Phaon  has 
severed  the  relations  between  genius  and  man,  and  the  realiza- 
tion of  his  own  position  overcomes  Grillparzer  when  he  lets 
Rhamnes  word  Sappho's  epitaph  thus  :^^ 

Es  war  auf  Erden  ihre  Heimat  nicht. 
Sie  ist  zuriickgekehret  zu  den  Ihren. 

Medea,  also,  seeks  solitude,  but  although,  like  Sappho,  she  is 
prompted  to  flee  the  world  because  of  despair,  she  is  lashed 
into  the  closest  possible  communion  with  nature  by  the  furies 
of  her  guilty  conscience  :*'' 

Mich  sende  zuruck 
In  das  Innre  des  Landes,  Vater, 
Tief,  wo  nur  Walder  und  dunkles  Gekliift, 
Wo  kein  Auge  hindringt,  kein  Ohr,  keine  Stimme, 
Wo  nur  die  Einsamkelt  und  ich. 

What  does  Medea  seek  in  this  dark  wilderness  where  she  may 
be  alone  with  herself  and  with  nature?  She  seeks  the  godhead 
in  its  very  temple,  because  only  in  solitude  is  it  possible  to 
worship  nature.  And  that  is  Medea's  aim.  She  is  anxious  to 
prostrate  herself  before  the  deity,  to  confess  and  to  obtain 
absolution.  The  same  comfort  and  blessing  which  she  here 
expects  from  solitude  actually  comes  to  her  later  when  fair 
pictures  of  long-forgotten  happiness,  pictures  of  the  beloved 
home  of  her  childhood-days,  bring  a  smile  of  relief  to  her 
sorrowful  countenance  upon  which  is  already  engraved  the 
somber  determination  to  murder  her  own  blood :" 

^  Goethe,  Tasso.  ^  IV,  p.  227. 

"V,  p.  81.  "V,  p.  217. 


62 

Willkommen,  holde,  freundliche  Gestalten, 
Sucht  ihr  mich  heim  in  meiner  Einsamkeit? 

In  solitude,  then,  our  imagination  develops  greater  activity 
and  our  heart  is  purified  because  of  the  immediate  contact  with 
nature — God.  Solitude  opens  the  eyes  of  the  blind  and  the 
ears  of  the  deaf.  We  not  only  see  the  beauty  of  nature,  but  we 
also  hear  her  voice.  Thus  Hero*^  converses  with  the  echo, 
and  the  gentle  splashing  of  the  waves  of  the  Hellespont  beneath 
her  brings  her  a  whispered  message.  In  this  close  contact 
with  nature.  Hero  feels  confident,*^  the  strength  necessary  for 
performing  her  sacred  function  will  return  to  her. 

The  influence  of  solitude  upon  character  is  described  by 
Drahomira,**  who  attributes  the  filial  affection  of  her  younger 
child  to  the  fact  that  he  was  brought  up  fern  von  der  Menschen 
Aiifenthalt,  in  close  communion  with  nature.  For  him  it  is 
impossible  to  forget  the  laws  of  nature,  and  to  turn  against  his 
own  mother,  like  the  first-born  son.  Nursed  at  nature's  very 
bosom,  he  has  imbibed  the  divine  lesson  (which,  by  the  way, 
is  not  Christian !) 

zu  hassen,  wer  ihn  hasst, 
Und  wer  ihm  wohlthut,  den  zu  lieben. 

Man  has,  at  all  times,  been  attracted  by  that  which  he  is 
unable  to  grasp,  and  which  he  can,  therefore,  only  divine.  This 
mystic  element,  which  forms  part  of  every  religion,  is  con- 
sequently closely  associated  with  nature  by  any  person  who 
undertakes  a  pantheistic  interpretation  of  nature.  That  Grill- 
parzer  is  one  of  these  has  appeared  from  the  preceding  dis- 
cussion of  a  number  of  passages,  especially  from  those  which 
interpret  nature  as  the  moral  ideal,  but  the  matter  may  become 
more  firmly  established  by  these  lines  which  are  intended  to 
show  Grillparzer's  attitude  toward  the  mystic  forces  of  nature. 
This  subject  is  of  no  little  importance  for  the  understanding 
of  his  nature-cult. 

From  his  early  youth  on,  the  poet's  imagination  fed  upon  the 
mysteries  of  nature,  which  he  connected  with  his  immediate 
surroundings.     In  his  Autobiography^^  we  read: 

"VII,  p.  50.  «VII,  p.  47. 

"XI,  p.  114.  «XIX,  p.  14. 


63 

.  .  .  Da  war  denn  der  Gebote  und  Verbote  kein  Ende,  und  an 
ein  Herumlaufen  ohne  Aufsicht  war  gar  nicht  zu  denken.  Beson- 
ders  hatte  der  der  Gartenmauer  zugekehrte  hintere  Rand  des 
Teiches,  der  nie  betreten  wurde,  fiir  mich  etwas  hochst  Mysterioses, 
und  ohne  etwas  Bestimmtes  dabei  zu  denken,  verlegte  ich  unter 
die  breiten  Lattichblatter  und  dichten  Gestrauche  alle  die  Schauder 
und  Geheimnisse,  mit  denen  in  unsrer  Stadtwohnung  das  "  Holzge- 
wolbe  "  bevolkert  war. 

This  can  mean  nothing  else  than  that  the  Ahnung  of  the  inex- 
plicable, of  the  divine  in  nature,  had  entered  his  heart  even  at 
this  early  stage  of  life.  The  Ahnung  subsequently  grows  into 
consciousness,  and  this  consciousness  appears  not  infrequently 
in  his  works,  although,  with  the  exception  of  Dcs  Mceres  und 
der  Liehe  Wellen  and  Medea,  the  references  are  mostly  dis- 
tributed among  the  earlier  dramas.  It  is  interesting  to  observe 
that  Grillparzer's  mystic  interpretation  of  nature  centers,  in  the 
main,  in  water  and  darkness  (night). 

The  mystic  force  in  water  which  brings  destruction  to  man 
(mythologically  personified  as  water-nix,  mermaid,  etc.)  is 
expressed  in  the  poem  Herkules  und  Hylas:^° 

Denn,  als  d^n  Krug  in  emsigen  Handen, 

Ubergebtugt  in  den  spiegelnden  See, 

Er  am  Ufer  schopfend  gestanden, 

Hab'  es  gequollen  vom  Grund  in  die  Hoh — 

Glanzende  Stirn'  und  Augen  und  Wangen 

Und  zwei  Hande,  von  denen  umfangen, 

Hylas  versank  in  dem  wallenden  See. 

And  the  unknown  power  which  stirs  up  the  sea  and  which 
causes  all  nature  to  tremble,  is  referred  to  in  the  following 
metaphor,  in  Spartakus:*'' 

Ein  unergriindet,  tief  bewegtes  Meer 
1st  dieses  Wilden  seltsam  fremdes  Wesen; 
Du  siehst  die  Wellen  an  einander  rauschen 
Und  an  des  Himmels,  an  des  Orkus  Toren 
Mit  ungestiimen  Hauptern  wechselnd  pochen, 
Mit  aufgesperrtem,  schwarzem  Schreckensrachen 
Was  sich  ihm  zagend  nahet,  wild  verschlingen ; 
Doch  was  des  Sturmes  Toben  aufgeregt, 

*'II,  p.  38.  "XI,  p.  135. 

6 


64 

Die  Macht,  die  mit  gewalt'ger  Riesenfaust 

Die  Wasser,  die  geruhig  sclilummcrtcn, 

Aufschreckt  und  ballt  und  durch  die  Liifte  schleudert, 

Dass  drob  die  Erde  bebt,  die  Winde  heulen, 

Das  liegt  verborgen  in  den  dunkeln  Tiefen, 

Und  keines  Menschen  Aug  hat  es  erspiiht. 

Night,  on  the  other  hand,  is  mystically  interpreted  because  of 
the  concomitant  idea  of  darkness,  which  breeds  horror.  So 
the  priest,  in  Des  M ceres  und  der  Licbe  Wellen:^^ 

Komm  mit !     Es  sinkt  die  Nacht 
Und  briitet  iiber  ungeschehne  Dinge. 

More  at  length,  Drahomira*"  dwells  upon  the  same  idea: 

Noch  deckt  die  Nacht  mit  dunkelm  Drachenfittich 

Die  stillen  Raume  der  entschlafnen  Erde, 

Und  briitet  iiber  schwarzen  Greueltaten, 

Die  sie,  entschliipft  dem  miitterlichen  Ei, 

Mit  Blut  nahrt  und  mit  Fleisch  von  Menschenleichen. 

And  Bertha^"  intensifies  the  description  of  the  horror  of  night 
by  conceiving  the  howling  winds  as  Nachtgespcnstcr,  thus 
mystically  personifying  the  voice  of  nature.  However,  this 
voice  does  not  always  inspire  horror,  but  is  often  gently  sooth- 
ing and  comforting.  Night,  darkness,  is  the  most  auspicious 
place  for  the  mysterious  voice  of  the  godhead :  no  one  knows 
this  better  than  Hero's  uncle,  the  priest,  hence  his  advice 
to  her  :^^ 

Ich  riet  dir  oft,  in  still  verborgner  Nacht 
Zu  nahen  unsrer  Gottin  Heiligtum 
Und  dort  zu  lauschen  auf  die  leisen  Stimmen, 
Mit  denen  wohl  das  Uberird'sche  spricht. 

This  mystic  manifestation  of  the  deity  favored  by  the  cover 
of  night  is  referred  to  also  by  Phaon  f-  only  in  this  instance 
the  lips  of  nature  breathe  words  of  love : 

Nur  ich  stand  schweigend  auf  und  ging  hinaus 
Ins  einsam  stille  Reich  der  heil'gen  Nacht. 

"VII,  p.  89.  «XI,  p.  117. 

""IV,  p.  15.  "VII,  p.  13. 

^IV,  p.  146. 


65 

Dort,  an  den  Pulsen  der  siiss  schlummernden  Natur, 
In  ihres  Zaubers  magisch-macht'gen  Kreisen, 
Da  breitet'  ich  die  Arme  nach  dir  aus. 

A  magic-mystic  veil  is  spread  over  the  figure  of  Aledea 
in  whom  I  have  attempted  to  show  a  personification  of  dark- 
ness and  night. 

Des  Nachts  aber  geht  sic  gespenstisch  hervor, 

says  Absyrtus^^  with  regard  to  his  sister,  and  the  art  itself 
which  Medea  practises  is  mystic:  mystic-black,  therefore,  are 
also  all  her  attributes,  as  well  as  the  place  where  she  dwells, 
Medea  thus  holds  in  her  hands  a  black  staff,  and  her  retreat 
is  "  a  somber  den,  in  the  interior  of  a  tower."  She  is  Mysti- 
cism personified.  The  forces  of  nature  not  only  obey  her,  but 
also  speak  through  her.  In  Medea's  mother  I  see  Nature  her- 
self. This  accounts  for  Medea's  mysterious  endowment,  to 
which  the  weak  Aietes  appeals  for  help  :^* 

Du  bist  klug,  du  bist  stark, 

Dich  hat  die  INIutter  gelehrt 

Aus  Krautern,  aus  Steinen 

Tranke  bereiten, 

Die  den  Willen  binden 

Und  fesseln  die  Kraft ; 

Du  rufst  Geister  , 

Und  besprichst  den  Mond. 

Hilf  mir,  mein  gutes  Kind. 

Mystic,  also,  is  Medea's  language.  When  she  calls  upon  the 
forces  of  nature  at  her  command,  her  conjuring  formula  is 
worded  thus:^^ 

Die  ihr  einhergeht  im  Gewande  der  Nacht 
Und  auf  des  Sturmes  Fittichcn  wandelt ! 
Furchtbare  Fiirsten  der  Tiefc !  .  .  . 
Erscheinet !     Erscheinet ! 

When  she  offers  the  poisoned  draught  to  Jason,^"  she  takc"^ 
care  to  mention  the  various  ingredients.  Mystic  is  the  potion 
itself,  and  mystic,  therefore,  must  be  its  result — death ! : 

^v,  p.  35.  "■'V.  p.  14. 

""V,  p.  51.  "V,  p.  108. 


66 

Den  Becher  hier  nimm ! 
Vom  Honig  des  Berges, 
Vom  Tau  der  Nacht 
Und  der  Milch  der  Wolfin 
Braust  darin  gegoren  ein  Trank. 

Medea,  as  personification  of  Mysticism,  has  a  tragic  fate,  and 
her  very  guilt  is  based  upon  her  magic-mystic  power.  Sym- 
bolically, this  might  mean  that  Grillparzer  condemned  mysti- 
cism from  a  rationalistic  viewpoint.  However,  this  is  some- 
what hypothetical.  On  the  other  hand,  if  this  could  be  proven, 
it  would  furnish  a  valuable  suggestion  for  the  development  of 
the  idea  of  mysticism  in  Grillparzer's  mind,  for  the  following 
fact  would  then  be  obvious:  he  condemns  in  1820  (Das 
goldene  Vliess),  what  he  had  sanctioned  in  1818  (Sappho), 
while  he  returns  to  his  original  views  regarding  mysticism  in 
1831  (Des  Meeres  und  der  Liehe  Wellen).  However  this  may 
be,  one  point  is  certain:  the  sources  of  information  for  the 
study  of  Grillparzer's  mystic  interpretation  of  nature  are  suffi- 
ciently rich  in  his  earlier  works,  while  the  supply  grows  scant 
as  the  poet  grows  older.  This  needs  to  be  emphasized,  because 
the  same  is  not  true,  so  far  as  references  to  nature  are  con- 
cerned, which  may  be  found  everywhere. 

To  appeal  to  nature  for  sympathy,  i.  e.,  to  interpret  her  as 
a  personality  which  takes  an  interest  in  the  affairs  of  man,  is 
not  new.  However,  this  does  not  concern  us.  The  direct 
appeal  to  nature  for  sympathy  and  relief  presupposes  implicit 
faith  in  her  power  to  respond,  and  it  will  be  logical,  therefore, 
to  show  first  to  what  extent  Grillparzer  endows  nature  with 
this  necessary  power. 

The  roots  of  nature's  sympathy  are  embedded  in  her  uni- 
versal charity.  Not  infrequently  Grillparzer  attributes  a  com- 
forting influence  to  the  sources  of  light.  Thus  in  the  poems 
An  die  Sonne  f""^ 

Du  verscheuchest  den  Schlaf,  der  mit  allmachtigen 
Schwingen  jeglichen  Menschen  deckt, 
Der  im  qualenden  Traum  foltert  den  Erdensohn, 
Den  du  gntig  der  Qual  entreisst ; 
and  An  den  Mond:^^ 
"  11,  r.  77.  ''  11,  p.  78. 


67 

Manchen  driicket  schwerer  Kummer, 
Manchen  lastet  Qual  und  Pein; 
Doch  du  wiegst  in  sanften  Schlummer 
Trostend  ihn,  voll  Mitleid  ein. 

The  same  idea  is  set  forth  in  a  passage  of  the  Ahnfrau,^^ 
where  Bertha  calls  Jaromir's  attention  to  the  mercy  of  God 
whose  sunrays  cast  the  golden  hght  of  hope  and  comfort  over 
the  very  scafifold  upon  which  punishment  is  meted  out  to  the 
murderer. — At  times,  though  rarely,  even  darkness,  which 
Grillparzer  generally  invests  with  horror,  appears  sympathetic. 
In  the  poem  Vision,'^^  death,  i.  e.,  darkness,  expressly  referred 
to  as  Nachtgeivolk  is  not  cruel  enough  to  carry  out  its  gloomy 
mission,  in  view  of  the  many  hearts  which  beat  in  love  for 
Emperor  Francis : 

Nicht  iiber  meinen  Auftrag  geht  die  Pflicht; 
Ich  ward  gesandt,  ein  einzig  Herz  zu  brechen. 
So  viele  Tausend  Herzen  brech'  ich  nicht ! 

In  the  same  way,  darkness  is  once  referred  to  as  the  reflection 
of  human  misery.  In  this  reflection  appears  the  idea  of  sym- 
pathy, since  nature  mourns  the  fate  of  manf'^ 

Als  diese  Nacht  ich  schlaflos  stieg  vom  Lager 
Und,  offnend  meiner  Hiitte  niedre  Tiir, 
Aus  jenem  Dunkel  trat  in  neues  Dunkel, 
Da  lag  das  Meer  .vor  mir  mit  seinen  Kusten, 
Ein  schwarzer  Teppich,  ungeteilt,  zu  schaun, 
Wie  eingehiillt  in  Trauer  und  in  Gram. 

The  last  line  is  significant,  because  it  establishes,  in  this  in- 
stance, sympathy  as  the  cause  of  darkness. 

A  number  of  passages  have  a  sympathetic-mystic  character. 
In  the  poem  Der  Selbstmorder^-  nature  prevents,  with  all 
means  at  her  command,  a  suicide  from  carrying  out  his  plan. 
The  very  consciousness  on  the  part  of  the  suicide  that  he  is 
watched  by  nature,  that  nature  takes  an  interest  in  him,  and, 
as  moral  ideal,  strives  to  prevent  wrong,  is  sufficient  to  arrest 
him,  and  his  bad  conscience  is  unable  to  endure  nature's  scruti- 
nizing glance.     Not  satisfied  with  her  effect  upon  the  suicide's 

^IV,  p.  78.  '"1.  p.  I  S3. 

"VII,  p.  52.  ^11,  p.  168. 


68 

eye,  nature  seeks  to  make  an  impression  also  upon  his  ear, 
and  with  a  mighty  voice  she  imparts  the  sympathetic  lesson : 
Wo  wir  stehn,  da  fiillt  niemand,  als  zwingender  Gewalt. 

Sympathy,  likewise,  is  expressed  by  the  voice  of  nature  which 
transmits  a  greeting  from  beyond  the  grave.    So  Sappho  :®^ 

Hier,  wo  Zypressen  von  der  Ehern  Grab 
Mir  leisen  Geistergruss  heriiberlispeln. 

The  same  sympathetic  connection  which  nature  establishes 
between  life  and  death,  between  the  known  and  the  mystic, 
appears  also  from  Count  Borotin's  words  :®* 

Sieh,  mein  Sohn,  ich  bin  ein  Greis ; 
Die  Natur  winkt  mir  zu  Grabe, 

which  do  not  merely  represent  a  poetic  phrase  for  "  Ich  bin  alt 
und  muss  sterben !  " 

The  interest  which  nature  takes  in  man  is  evinced  further 
by  her  absolute  secrecy,  in  which  man  may  trust.  Nature  is 
omniscient ;  nothing  can  escape  her  attention,  and  her  eyes  rest 
constantly  upon  the  fate  of  man :  cf .  the  words  of  Gora  :®^ 

Dem  Herakles  ... 

Hin  sank  er,  und  des  Oeta  waldiger  Riicken 

Sail  ihn  vergehn,  in  Flammen  vergehn ! 

And  Hero,*^*^  full  of  confidence  in  the  sympathetic  secrecy  of 
nature,  replies  to  her  uncle's  suspicious  inquiries  with  a  brief: 

Die  Liifte  wissen's ; 
Doch  sie  verschweigen's  auch. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  fact  that  nature  is  omniscient  makes  it 
possible  for  her  to  sound  a  sympathetic  note  of  warning,  long 
before  the  actual  catastrophe  occurs.  Jason,  immediately  after 
placing  himself  in  possession  of  the  dragon-guarded  fleece, 
perceives  a  sigh  in  the  foliage  above,  and  a  voice  behind  him 
cries  "  Wehe ! "  indicating  that  his  daring  feat  will  bring  about 
his  downfall. 

These  are  the  principal  characteristics  upon  which  Grill- 
parzer  bases  nature's  sympathetic  power,  and  we  may  now 

^IV,  p.  142.  «*IV.  p.  so. 

*V,  p.  181.  "^Vil,  p.  70. 


69 

turn  to  the  consideration  of  those  passages  which  contain 
man's  direct  appeal  to  nature  for  sympathy. 

In  appeahng  to  nature  for  assistance,  man  pleads  his  cause 
before  the  highest  tribunal.  The  poet  himself  {Zmischen 
Gdta  und  Capuay^  takes  refuge  with  nature  as  the  only  power 
which  is  able  to  afford  him  relief: 

Nun  denn,  versuch'  es, 
Eden  der  Lust, 
Ebne  die  Wogen 
Auch  dieser  Brust ! 

and  in  midwinter  {Stlindchen),^^  surrounded  by  ice  and  snow, 
he  calls  upon  the  ice  to  cool  the  glowing  passion  of  his  breast. 
For  the  same  reason,  Hero*'^  appeals  to  the  gentle  night  breeze 
which  is  not  only  to  fan  the  flames  that  rage  in  her  heart,  but 
to  bring  her  a  message  from  the  one  she  loves.  The  whole 
passage  is  a  fine  example  of  nature's  sympathetic  voice  which 
sounds  like  music  in  the  poet's  ear: 

Komm,  Wind  der  Nacht, 
Und  kiihle  mir  das  Aug,  die  heissen  Wangen ! 
Kommst  du  doch  iibers  Meer  von  ihm, 
Und,  o  dein  Rauschen  und  der  Blatter  Lispeln, 
Wie  Worte  klingt  es  mir:  von  ihm  mir:  ihm,  von  ihm. 

Grillparzer's  loftiest  interpretation  of  nature  lies  in  his 
identification  of  nature  with  love.  Nature,  now,  as  the  ideal 
of  love,  has  particular  attraction  for  lovers  who  fed  the  rela- 
tion of  their  own  position  to  that  of  nature,  and  who,  conse- 
quently, appeal  to  her  sympathy  more  frequently  and  with 
greater  assurance.  Grillparzer  often  makes  use  of  this  senti- 
mental appeal  to  the  sympathy  of  nature,  and  the  passage  just 
quoted  represents  but  one  example  out  of  many.  It  must  be 
observed  here  that  the  interpretation,  from  Grillparzer's  point 
of  view,  is  considerably  affected  by  the  introduction  of  love. 
For  lovers,  darkness  (night)  loses  its  heretofore  so  much 
emphasized  suggestion  of  horror.  Every  attribute  of  nature 
is  now  viewed  from  the  standpoint  of  sympathy  alone,  and 
thus  darkness  is  interpreted  as  the  shielding,  love-inviting  con- 

«■!,  p.  131.  '«II,  p.  16.  »°VII,  p.  88. 


70 

fidante  of  man.  Thus  the  love-stricken  Spartakus  seeks  the 
company  of  night,  and  PubHpor/^  to  whom  darkness  signifies 
only  horror,  is  unable  to  account  for  the  strange  action  of 
his  friend : 

Da  flieht  er  des  Lagers  siissen  Arm 

Und  macht  die  Nacht  zu  seiner  Brust  Vertrauten, 

In  ihren  Purpurmantel  eingehiillt 

Hort'  ich  ihn  oftmals  auf  und  nieder  gehn, 

Zum  grausen  Dunkel  seltsam  schaurig  sprechend. 

The  same  contrast  of  Stimmung  is  shown  by  Bertha  who 
speaks  of  cine  grause  Nacht,'''^  and  yet,  in  the  very  same 
scene,''^  wishes  to  confide  the  overwhelming  happiness  of  her 
young  love  to  clouds  and  winds,  and  to  the  silence  of  night. 
She  actually  carries  out  this  project,  and  leaves  the  house: 
nature  has  now  only  sympathy,  but  no  horror  for  her. 

Also  disappointment  in  love  leads  to  an  appeal  to  nature's 
sympathy.  This  appeal,  however,  is  not,  cannot  always  be 
granted,  because  of  the  character  of  the  appeal  itself.  If  the 
appeal  is  justified,  nature  does  not  refuse  her  aid:  Sappho'^ 
thus  finds  the  needed  sympathy  in  the  quiet  solitude  of  the 
grotto,  to  which  she  retreats  with  the  first  stings  of  disap- 
pointment in  her  heart;  but  when  mad  jealousy  wrests  from 
her  tortured  breast  an  ardent  appeal  to  nature's  vengeance, 
she  hopes  for  sympathy  in  vain : 

Hernieder  euren  racherischen  Strahl, 
Hernieder  iuf  den  Scheitel  der  Verrater ! 
Zermalmt  sie,  Gotter,  wie  ihr  mich  zermalmt ! 
Umsonst !     Kein  Blitz  durchzuckt  die  stille  Luft, 
Die  Winde  sauseln  buhlerisch  im  Laube, 
Und  auf  den  breiten  Armen  tragt  die  See 
Den  Kahn  der  Liebe  schaukelnd  vom  Gestade ! 
Da  ist  nicht  Hilfe ! 

Nature  here  fails  to  respond  because,  on  one  hand,  she  will  not 
interfere  with  the  freedom  of  love,  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
because  the  guilt  lies  with  Sappho  herself  rather  than  with 
Phaon  and  Melitta.     Nature  cannot  grant  any  appeal  which 

'»XI,  p.  133.  "IV,  p.  15. 

"IV,  p.  2z.  "IV,  p.  171. 


71 

would  involve  injustice  or  wrong.  Neither  Poseidon  (water), 
nor  the  goddess  of  love  (all  nature)  pay,  therefore,  any  atten- 
tion to  Leander's  prayer  for  protection,"'*  while  the  paternal 
curse  which  is  hurled  at  Medea  comes  to  pass,  letter  by  letter, 
with  nature's  assistance : 

Dann  wirst  du  stehen  und  die  Hande  ringen, 

Sie  hiniiber  breiten  nach  dem  Vaterland, 

Getrennt  durch  weite,  brandende  Meere, 

Deren  Wellen  dir  murmelnd  bringen  des  Vaters  Fluch ! 

Grillparzer's  interpretation  of  nature  is,  then,  not  at  all 
times  the  same.  The  constant  influence  of  Stivinmng  upon 
the  poet's  viewpoint  has  been  discussed  elsewhere,  but  it 
becomes  necessary  to  return  to  this  matter  here.  It  has  just 
been  shown  that  night  (darkness),  for  example,  is  interpreted, 
on  the  one  hand,  as  an  inspiration  of  fear  and  horror,  and, 
on  the  other  hand,  as  a  phenomenon  capable  of  sympathy.  At 
first  glance,  this  seems  contradictory.  Apparent  contradictions 
are  not  infrequent  with  Grillparzer  (also  his  political  views 
were  attacked  on  this  ground),  and  when  we  read  so  gloomy 
a  passage  as,  for  instance,  in  JugcndcrinnerungenimGriinen:'^ 

Doch  sie  (Natur),  die  oft  gefiihrt  schon  meine  Sache, 
Getrostet  mich  so  oft  und  gern  zuvor, 
Verloren  hatte  sie  fiir  mich  die  Sprache, 
Die  Sprache,  oder  ich  fiir  sie  das  Ohr ; 

we  need  not  wonder  how  it  is  possible  for  the  same  poet  who 
interprets  nature  as  the  ideal  of  beauty,  goodness  and  love, 
and  who,  having  shown  the  sympathetic  power  of  nature, 
appeals  to  this  power,  to  record  elsewhere  the  loss  of  this 
sympathetic  influence.  The  explanation  for  this,  as  well  as 
for  all  other  passages  which  seem  to  contain  contradictions, 
is  given  in  the  last  line  of  the  above  quotation :  nature  can 
never  lose  her  voice,  but  the  poet  had  temporarily,  under  the 
influence  of  a  pessimistic  Stimmung,  lost  the  ear.  This  is  an 
absolutely  natural  and  as  easily  intelligible  occurrence  as  the 
lack  of  musical  appreciation  on  the  part  of  a  husband  who, 
at  the  open  grave  of  his  young  wife,  hears  the  strains  of  the 

''VII,  p.  80.  "I,  p.  222. 


72 

Bridal  March  from  Lohengrin,  played  at  a  wedding  celebra- 
tion in  the  neighborhood. 

Of  as  great  importance  as  Grillparzer's  mystic  and  sympa- 
thetic interpretation  of  nature,  is  his  extensive  symbolism. 
His  flower-symbolism  is  of  special  interest.  Flowers,  in  gen- 
eral, mean  love;  they  bloom  in  the  fairest  season  of  the  year 
(spring  itself  is  love  personified),  and  they  are  bright  because 
beauty  and  light  form  two  inseparable  ideas  with  Grillparzer. 
Thus,  in  the  poem  Intermezzo:''*^ 

Im  holden  Mond  der  Maien, 
Wenn  lichte  Blumen  bluhn, 
Gefliigelte  Schalmeien 
Die  Waldesnacht  durchziehn; 
Da  hebt  sich  eine  Scholle, 
Die  Liebe  lauscht  hervor. 

The  same  idea  which  shows  that,  to  Grillparzer,  all  flowers 
represent  love,  is  set  forth  also  in  the  two  following  passages, 
the  first  of  which  (Mit  einem  Blmnenkorbcheny 

Durch  Blumen  spricht  das  Herz  aufs  Beste, 
Denn,  schweigend,  reden  sie  doch  laut; 

characterizes  flowers  as  messengers  of  love  (indirect  symbol- 
ism), while  the  second  (SappJio)''^ 

Eiicharis:     Ihr  Madchen,  auf  !     Mehr  Blumen  bringt  herbei ! 
Zu  ganzen  Haufen  Blumen.     Schmiickt  das  Haus, 
Und  Hof  und  Halle,  Saule,  Tiir  und  Schwelle, 
Ja,  selbst  die  Blumenbeete  schmiickt  mit  Blumen ! 
Tut  Wiirze  zum  Gewiirz,  denn  heute  feiert 
Das  Fest  der  Liebe  die  Gebieterin; 

makes  flowers  appear  as  love  itself  (direct  symbolism).  Thus 
a  gift  of  flowers  is,  likewise,  with  contrasting  emphasis,  shown 
to  be  a  token  of  love,  by  Phaon  -J^ 

Gold  schenkt  die  Eitelkeit,  der  rauhe  Stolz; 

Die  Freundschaft  und  die  Liebe  schenken  Blumen. 

It  is  of  interest,  in  this  connection,  to  note  one  passage  in 
which  Grillparzer  reverses  the  symbol.    If  flowers  were  shown 

"I,  p.  223.  "II,  p.  15s. 

"IV,  p.  158.  '»/&W. 


73 

heretofore  as  love,  love  itself  now  appears  as  a  flower.  So 
in  SappJio:^'^ 

Und  findet  er  die  Lieb',  biickt  er  sich  wohl, 
Das  holde  Bliimchen  von  dem  Grund  zu  lesen. 

A  number  of  flowers  are  used  by  Grillparzer  individually; 
myrtle,  violet,  lily  and  rose  are  those  with  which  we  are  most  con- 
cerned. The  myrtle's  simplicity  suggests  purity  and  innocence 
of  afifection,  and  thus  becomes  the  symbol  of  virginity  upon 
the  bridal  brow ;  the  gentle  violet  represents  modest  and  quiet 
(secret)  enjoyment  of  love;  the  lily  appears  as  symbol  of 
naivete,  and  the  rose,  in  particular,  is  made  the  flower  of  love 
par  excellence.  What  we  have  to  deal  with  here  is  apparently 
the  effect  of  color,  rather  than  anything  else.  Grillparzer's 
optic  nerve  is  just  as  sensitive  as  his  musical  ear,  and  thus 
color  does  not  only  act  upon  his  eye,  but  leads  also  to  the 
formation  of  symbolic  associations.  The  green  of  the  myrtle, 
therefore,  at  once  appears  as  fertility,  and  not  as  green  alone; 
the  color  of  the  violet  combines  with  its  fragrance  and  leads 
to  the  above-mentioned  symbolic  interpretation ;  the  spotless 
vvrhite  of  the  lily  reflects  purity  and  innocence,  and  the  glowing 
red  of  the  rose  expresses  the  supreme  bliss  of  love.  The  color 
of  the  rose  itself  is  not  mentioned  in  this  connection,  but  it 
must  be  inferred  with  certainty  that  these  particular  roses 
are  red,  rather  than  white,  because  the  color  white  could  not 
mean  innocence,  naivete  and  consciously  sexual  love  (cf. 
Phaon  who  hands  Sappho  a  rose)  at  the  same  time;  and  fur- 
thermore, the  following  picture — if  all  white — would  be  abso- 
lutely dull,  a  defect  from  which  Grillparzer's  pictures  are 
totally  free:^^ 

Hero:      So  lasst  an  unserm  Ufer  ihn  begraben, 
Wo  er  erblich,  wo  er,  ein  Toter,  lag, 
Am  Fusse  meines  Turms.     Und  Rosen  soUen 
Und  weisse  Lilian,  vom  Tau  befeuchtet, 
Aufsprossen,  wo  er  liegt. 

Apart  from  Grillparzer's  interpretation  of  all  nature  as  love 
(which  shows  the  poet  as  his  best,  and  which  is  so  important 

^'IV,  p.  174.  "VII,  p.  100. 


74 

as  to  make  it  necessary  to  discuss  is  separately),  there  remains 
to  be  mentioned  here  but  one  mystic-symbolic  reference.  It  is 
contained  in  the  poem  Zu  Mozarts  Feicr,^^  where  the  pure  air 
of  lofty  mountain-tops,  mingled  with  the  fragrance  of  herbs 
and  flowers,  is  called  the  breath  of  God.  No  matter  which 
phase  of  Grillparzer's  interpretation  of  nature  one  may  investi- 
gate, there  appears  a  conscious  effort  on  the  part  of  the  poet  to 
establish  God  and  nature  as  one  inseparable  unity.  We  have 
had  occasion  to  observe  that  the  poet  endows  nature  with 
consciousness,  with  a  moral,  economic,  and  logical  character; 
elsewhere  attention  has  been  called  to  the  voice  of  nature,  and 
here  we  meet  with  nature's  breath.  In  this  way,  we  approach 
more  and  more  the  completion  of  Grillparzer's  picture,  which 
reveals  the  godhead  as  a  visible,  tangible  personality  in  nature 
herself.  Two  more  elements — beauty  and  love — are  necessary 
to  complete  the  idealization  of  Nature  Divine.  Attention  will 
be  given  these  elements  presently,  but  even  now  the  poet's 
lofty  conception  of  nature  is  fairly  established. 

That  Grillparzer  is  deeply  impressed  with  nature's  beauty 
is  now,  upon  consideration  of  the  various  phases  of  his  descrip- 
tion and  interpretation  of  nature,  a  mere  matter  of  course ; 
however,  the  appreciation  of  nature  alone  hardly  entitles  any- 
one to  be  named  in  the  list  of  nature-poets.  The  beauty  of 
nature  leads  further,  with  Grillparzer,  than  to  mere  apprecia- 
tion ;  it  enables  him  to  actually  know  nature,  and  with  this 
knowledge  begins  his  idealistic  interpretation  which  culminates 
in  the  conception  of  nature  as  ideal  of  beauty  and  love.  j\Iany 
passages  quoted  heretofore  reveal  individual  characteristics 
of  nature  as  beautiful  and  lofty,  but  there  are  three  particular 
poems  which  furnish  the  best  evidence  for  the  conception  of 
All-Nature  as  visible  ideal  of  beauty:  Zivischen  Gdta  und 
Capua,^^  Mistress  Shaw,^^  and  Irenens  Wiederkehr.^^  The 
last  of  these  will  later  be  discussed  at  length,  because  it  is  of 
importance  also  for  other  reasons,  so  that  a  consideration  of 
the  first  two  may  suffice  here. 

Zzuischcn   Gdta  und  Capua  represents,  at  the  same  time, 

''U,  p.  60.  *M,  p.  130. 

"  II,  p.  46.  ^  XI,  p.  23  ff. 


75 

one  of  the  finest  landscapes  the  poet  ever  drew.  The  question 
may  be  raised  here,  why  we  seek  Grillparzer's  ideahzation  of 
the  beauty  of  nature  in  a  foreign  landscape,  rather  than  in  a 
home-painting  in  which,  as  we  have  seen,  he  makes  so  lavish 
a  display  of  color.  It  should  be  observed,  now,  that  this 
foreign  landscape  is  in  Italy,  the  country  which  nature  endowed 
more  richly  perhaps  than  any  other  part  of  Europe.  Italy 
thus  afforded  the  poet  a  far  better  opportunity  for  expressing 
his  ideal,  than  Austria,  or  even  Germany  by  which  he  was 
but  little  attracted  (cf.  Tagehilcher,  XX,  p.  27). 

Here,  between  Gata  and  Capua,  the  incomparable  beauty  of 
the  country  acts  like  an  intoxicant  upon  the  poet  who  barely 
knows  in  which  direction  to  turn  his  eyes  first.  Gentle  breezes 
are  fanning  his  feverish  brow,  and  he  imagines  to  be  in  the 
realm  of  poetry.  All  colors  seem  more  vivid  to  him;  the  sun 
shines  brighter,  the  heavens  are  of  a  deeper  blue,  the  green 
of  the  foliage  appears  fresher,  and  the  fragrance  of  the  flowers 
sweeter.  Semi-tropical  vegetation,  to  which  he  is  not  accus- 
tomed, does  not  fail  to  exert  its  powerful  influence  upon  him : 
olive-tree  and  cypress  suggest  graceful  women,  and  he  is 
thrilled  with  pleasure  upon  discovering  a  golden  pomegranate. 
"  Apf  el  der  Schonheit,"  he  significantly  calls  it,  while  nature 
herself  receives  the  cognomen  Paris  for  giving  this  prize  of 
beauty  to  charming  Naples.  The  usefulness  of  the  vine-plant 
is  then  with  purpose  introduced  as  incidental,  while  emphasis 
is  placed  upon  its  beauty.  All  these  elements  taken  together 
lead  to  the  exclamation: 

tjbrall   Schonheit, 
tjbrall  Glanz! 

Again  light  is  used  as  a  synonym  of  beauty,  and  all  nature  (it 
makes  no  difference  that  this  is  Italian  nature  in  particular) 
appears  as  the  sun  from  which  all  beauty  emanates.  Nature 
is  everywhere  the  ideal  of  beauty;  however,  this  beauty  is  not 
the  same  in  all  places ;  it  is  wisely  and  economically  distributed, 
and  may  be  registered  upon  a  graduated  scale.  Hence  the 
qualitative  and  quantitative  dift'erence  in  beauty  between 
Austria  and  Italy,  which  Grillparzer  expresses  with  the  words : 


76 

Was  bei  uns  schreitet, 
Schwebt  hier  im  Tanz. 

If  the  idealization  of  nature's  beauty  in  Zwischeii  Gdta  und 
Capua  is  due  directly  to  the  effect  upon  the  visual  sense,  the 
other  poem,  Mistress  Shaw,  idealizes  the  cause  by  virtue  of 
its  effect  upon  the  auditory  sense.  It  is  the  musician,  rather 
than  the  painter,  who  here  interprets  the  voice  of  nature  as  a 
symphony  of  beauty.  The  poet  lies  on  a  soft  couch  of  moss, 
by  the  side  of  a  brook;  above  him,  a  "canopy  of  foliage" 
affords  protection  from  the  hot  summer  sun,  and  a  beautiful 
carpet  of  grass,  interwoven  with  flowers  of  brilliant  gold, 
covers  the  stage  of  this  theatre.  Thus  the  poet  shuts  his  eye- 
lids, and  suddenly  he  hears  the  voice  of  nature.  The  water 
has  lips,  and  the  trees  have  tongues.  Music,  such  as  he  never 
heard  before,  sounds  in  the  air:  his  ear  turns  soul. 

Des  Wassers  Lippen  und  der  Baume  Zungen 
Stimmt  ein  zum  Ton  beriihrter  Phantasie, 
Halb  an  dem  Ohr,  halb  in  der  Brust  erklungen, 
Umkreist  ein  Strom  mich  leiser  Harmonie. 

The  Platonic  definition  of  beauty  as  %ai/3eiz^  ev  tm  OeoopelaOac 
(Gorgias)  is  apparently  incomplete,  so  far  as  Grillparzer  is 
concerned,  because  he  shows  beauty,  through  the  idealization 
of  nature,  to  be  of  a  twofold  character,  so  that  beauty  does 
not  only  consist  of  ^at/aeti'  iv  rw  dewpela-dat  but  also  of 
XaipeLv  iv  rw  aKpodcrdat  which  seems  to  be  contained  in  Kant's 
definition:^*'  Das  Schone  its  das,  was  ohne  Bcgriff,  als  Object 
eines  allgemeinen  Wohlgef aliens  vorgestellt  wird.  For  Grill- 
parzer, nature  is  indeed  the  "object  of  universal  pleasure";  so 
much  so,  in  fact,  that  the  grateful  poet  does  not  hesitate  to  see 
in  nature  the  highest  good : 

Der  Giiter  hochstes,  was  uns  Gott  gegeben, 
Was  Himmelsfreuden  in  uns  wiederklingt, 
Es  ist  das  klare,  heitre,  warnie  Leben, 
Das  durch  das  Auge  ein  zum  Herzen  dringt. 

According  to  this  passage,  nature  is  the  ideal  representation  of 
TO  KoXov    and  as  an  ideal  it  is  an  end  per  se,  rather  than  a 

^^  Kritik  des  Urteiis.  1.  par.  6. 


77 

means  to  an  end.  However,  is  beauty  alone  the  guiding  star 
of  human  existence,  and  is  the  deification  of  nature  justified 
upon  the  basis  of  beauty  as  the  ultimate  end  of  all  striving? 
Beauty,  to  be  sure,  does  not  presuppose  goodness,  but  must 
not  TO  KdXov  be  coupled  with  to  a^adov  before  man  is  able  to 
worship  all  nature  as  God?  Grillparzer  is  well  aware  of  the 
requirements  without  which  a  pantheistic  interpretation  of 
nature  would  be  irrational,  and  therefore  impossible.  We  had 
occasion  before,  to  point  to  the  poet's  interpretation  of  nature 
as  moral  ideal  (pp.  54  fif.),  but  even  in  the  just-quoted  refer- 
ence the  element  of  goodness  is  not  lacking.  The  qualifying 
adjectives  klar  and  hciter  refer  to  beauty,  while  n'arm  (love, 
charity,)  appears  to  be  the  missing  link  which  establishes  a 
KuXoKayaOia,  in  the  Socratic  sense  of  the  word.  This  connects 
us  directly  with  Grillparzer's  interpretation  of  nature  as  the 
ideal  of  love,  which  is  to  be  discussed  in  the  following 
paragraphs. 

It  is  with  purpose  that  the  consideration  of  Grillparzer's 
nature-love  cult  has  been  reserved  until  the  last,  because  his 
nature-sense  appears  here  most  highly  developed,  and  because 
here  his  lyric  language  less  deserves  the  harsh  criticism  which 
has  been  passed  upon  it  by  a  number  of  stern  judges,  and  which 
is  shared  also  by  Richard  M.  Meyer,^'^  who  admits  Grillparzer's 
lyrische  Stimmung  von  hinrcissender  Kraft,  while  he  denies 
his  ability  to  produce  eigentliche  Lyrik. 

It  lies  in  the  nature  of  the  subject  that  the  greatest  part  of 
the  passages  which  concern  us  here  are  to  be  found  in  those 
of  Grillparzer's  dramatic  works  in  which  love  is  a  prominent 
issue  {Blanka,  Sappho,  Hero),  and  in  the  early  fragments 
(Spartakus,  Psyche,  Irenens  Wiederkehr),  but  it  is  hard  to 
find  any  of  our  poet's  works  which  do  not  contain  some 
allusion  to  nature  as  the  ideal  of  love.  In  all  of  these  refer- 
ences the  idea  is  essentially  the  same,  but  this  idea  is  expressed 
in  so  many  varied  ways  as  to  make  a  detailed  consideration 
well  worth  while. 

That  light  and  love  are  identical,  with  Grillparzer,  has  been 
shown ;  however,  the  fundamental  principle  of  this  interpreta- 

"£>/(?  deufsche  Literatnr  des  igtcn  Jahrhnndcrts,  I,  p.  83. 


78 

tion  may  become  more  clear  by  calling  attention  to  the  words 
of  Melusina,^^  who  states  directly  that  nature's  beauty  (visible 
by  daylight)  breathes  love,  while  without  love,  all  nature  would 
be  dark  and  gloomy : 

tjbrall  Nacht  ist  ohne  Liebe, 
Ubrall  Tag,  wo  Liebe  lacht. 

However,  this  does  not  mean  that  nature  ceases  to  be  love 
with  the  beginning  of  night  (darkness),  because  Melusina 
continues : 

Wenn  die  Sonne  fern  auch  bliebe, 

Lieb'  ist  Mond  in  sel'ger  Nacht. 

We  met  with  the  same  thought  before  when  we  pointed  out 
that  Bertha's  horror  of  night  vanishes,  at  the  very  moment 
when  she  is  able  to  look  upon  nature  with  the  eyes  of  love. 
Nature-love  can  be  fully  understood  only  by  one  who  is  him- 
self under  the  influence  of  an  altruistic  emotion.  All  nature 
thus  appears  to  Fedriko^^  in  brighter  colors  and  in  fairer  forms, 
when  he  finds  Blanka  alive  whom  he  had  never  expected  to  see 
again ;  and  with  his  appreciation  of  nature,  made  possible  by 
love,  there  comes  upon  him  the  full  realization  of  nature's 
supreme  mission,  viz.,  to  destroy  pessimism  and  melancholy, 
and  to  plant  in  the  heart  of  man  the  seed  of  faith  and  hope. 
With  more  elaborate  details,  Grillparzer  shows  that  love  alone 
leads  to  an  appreciation  of  nature,  by  pointing  out,  in  the 
Kloster  bei  Sendomir,^'^  that  nature's  language  is  intelligible 
only  to  him  who  loves :  "  As  the  warm  hand  touched  his,  a 
hitherto  unknown  sensation  seized  upon  his  heart.  An 
oriental  fairy-tale  relates  of  one  who  was  suddenly  endowed 
with  the  gift  to  understand  the  language  of  the  birds  and  of 
the  other  phenomena  of  nature,  and  who  now,  resting  in  the 
shade  by  the  edge  of  a  brook,  perceived  in  glad  astonishment 
word  and  meaning,  everywhere  about  him,  while,  before,  he 
heard  only  noise  and  sounds.  The  Count  had  this  experi- 
ence. A  new  world  arose  before  him,  and  with  faltering  steps 
he  followed  his  graceful  guide  who  opened  a  small  door  and 
stepped  with  him  into  a  low,  dimly  lighted  chamber." 

•"VII,  p.  230.  «'X,  p.  21.  ^XIII,  p.  200. 


79 

All  nature  sings  songs  of  love,  but  the  voice  of  nature  is 
soft  and  low,  perceptible  only  to  the  loving  ear.  So 
Spartakus  :''^ 

Indes  die  ganze  Schopfung  Liebeslieder 
Mit  leisem  Ton  zu  unsern  Herzen  sang — 

Love,  the  very  essence  of  nature,  raises  man  upon  the  highest 
plane  of  his  development.  Only  in  direct  communication  with 
nature,  man  may,  therefore,  become  perfect ;  only  under  the 
influence  of  love  is  it  possible  for  him  to  pay  his  great  debt  to 
his  fellowmen,  which  consists  in  universal  charity  and  altruistic 
usefulness..  The  mature  philosophy  of  the  aged  man  in  the 
fragment  Spartakus  may  be  inferred  from  his  significant  words 
of  welcome  addressed  to  his  young  friend  :"- 

Du  liebst !     Du  bist  vollendet !     Die  Natur 

Hat  dir  ihr  Siegel  aufgedriickt.     Du  liebst! 

O,  sei  willkommen,  Mensch,  im  Namen  der  Menscheit. 

At  times,  nature's  love-language  is  heard  by  some  particu- 
larly attentive  person,  but,  just  as  the  rustling  of  the  foliage 
and  the  murmuring  of  a  brook  present  nothing  but  a  meaning- 
less noise-riddle  to  him  who  is  not  bound  to  nature  by  the  ties 
of  love,  he  fails  to  grasp  the  sweet  enticing  accents  of  this 
inimitable  speech.  This  is  the  case  with  the  watchman  who 
guards  Hero's  dwelling  and  Aphrodite's  sacred  grove  against 
intruders.  In  reporting  his  suspicion  to  his  master,  the  morn- 
ing after  Leander's  secret  visit,  he  describes  in  vivid  language 
the  very  love  notes  of  nature,  however  without  any  under- 
standing :^^ 

Und  oben  war's  so  laut,  und  doch  so  heimlich, 
Ein  Fliistern  und  ein  Rauschen  hicr  und  dort. 
Die  ganze  Gegend  schien  erwacht,  bewegt ; 
Im  dichtsten  Laub  ein  sonderbares  Regen, 
Wie  Windeswehn,  und  wehte  doch  kein  Wind ; 
Und  was  getont  und  wiederklang,  war  nichts. 
Das  Meer  sticg  rauschend  hohcr  an  die  Ufer, 
Ein  halb  enthiillt  Gehcimnis  schien  die  Nacht. 
Und  dieser  Turm  war  all  des  dumpfen  Trcibcns 
Und  leisen  Regens  Mittelpunkt  und  Ziel. 

"XI.  p.  152.  ''XI,  p.  142.  "'VII,  p.  64. 

7 


80 

Wohl  zwanzigmal  eilt'  ich  an  seinen  Fuss, 
Nun  meinend  jetzt  das  Ratsel  zu  enthiillen, 
Und  sah  hinan,  nichts  schaut'  ich  als  das  Licht, 
Das  fort  und  fort  aus  Heros  Fenster  schien. 
Ein  einzig  mal  lief  wie  ein  Mannesschatten 
Vom  Meeresufer  nach  dem  Turme  zu. 
Ich  folg',  und  angelangt,  war  wieder  nichts, 
Nur  Rauschen  rings  und  Regen,  wie  zuvor. 

How  different  from  this  is  Phaon's  language,  when  he  en- 
courages his  timid  sweetheart  by  calling  her  attention  to  the 
sympathy  which  nature  expresses,  as  the  protecting  power  of 
love  :^* 

Fort !     Die  Sterne  blinken  freundlich, 
Die  See  rauscht  auf,  die  lauen  Liifte  wehn, 
Und  Amphritrite  ist  der  Liebe  hold. 

As  our  appreciation  of  nature  matures  upon  regarding  hef 
as  the  ideal  of  love,  which,  however,  we  are  able  to  do  only 
when  we  ourselves  understand  the  meaning  of  love  from  our 
own  experience,  it  is  natural  that  that  part  of  nature,  that  part 
of  the  world  in  which  this  experience  came  to  us,  is  endowed, 
in  our  imagination,  with  particular  beauty  and  special  attrac- 
tion. Therefore,  if  circumstances  have  separated  us  from  that 
particular  place,  it  remains  in  our  hearts  as  the  object  of  our 
perpetual  longing.  This  longing  fills  the  mourning  soul  of 
the  unfortunate  Blanka,  who,  bound  in  marriage  to  a  monster 
she  cannot  respect,  has  but  one  desire :  to  see,  once  more  before 
her  death,  the  happy  land  where  she  was  first  initiated  into  the 
mysteries  of  nature  and  of  love.  Like  a  Mignon-song  sound 
the  passionate  accents  of  Blanka's  agony  :®^ 

Dahin  lass  mich  ziehn, 
Diesem  Kerker  entfliehn. 
Die  seligen  Auen 
Noch  einmal  schauen. 
In  deren  Schoss 
Mein  junges  Herz 
Der  Liebe  Schmerz, 
Der  Liebe  Wonne 
Entzuckt  genoss; 
*•  IV,  p.  202.  "^  X,  pp.  29,  30. 


81 

Mich  schaun  die  Sonne, 

Die  mich  bestrahlte, 

Als  Himmelslust 

An  seiner  Brust 

Mit  Purpur  meine  Wangen  malte; 

Mich  sehn  das  Land, 

Wo  an  der  Hand 

Ich  der  Natur 

Zuerst  erfuhr, 

Wie  Lieb'  begliickt, 

Wie  sie  betriigt ! 

Dahin  lass  mich  fliehn; 

In  seinen  stillen  Griinden 

Ein  Grab  mich  finden  ! 

In  conceiving  nature  as  the  ideal  of  love,  the  picture  of  our 
own  individual  ideal — our  own  Beloved — must  be  reflected 
in  this  mirror  of  beauty  and  purity.  It  is  quite  intelligible, 
therefore,  that  Grillparzer  devotes  particular  attention  to  this 
requirement.  According  to  Spartakus'  own  statement,"*'  all 
nature — the  track  of  love — reveals  characteristics  of  his  Be- 
loved. Every  breath  of  air,  every  living  creature,  every  sprout 
of  green,  and  every  brook  remind  him  of  his  love,  and  from 
the  very  lips  of  nature  comes  his  sweetheart's  name.  Alore 
beautiful  even  than  this  statement,  and  still  more  explicit,  is 
Spartakus'  analysis  of  the  significance  of  nature's  voice  at 
night.  The  fear-inspiring  element  of  darkness  here  disappears 
altogether,  and  night  is  associated  only  with  the  ideas  of  still- 
ness and  rest,  which  enable  nature  to  deliver  her  message  of 
love.  This  is  a  psychic,  rather  than  a  physical  message,  and  its 
delivery  is  therefore  more  certain  at  that  time  when  the  body 
is  in  the  subconscious  state  of  sleep  which  bares  the  soul  to 
nature's  influence.  The  entire  passage"^  is  one  of  those  which 
show  how  much  Grillparzer  was  influenced  by  romanticism  : 

Wenn  die  Sonne  hinab  ist, 

Und  die  feuchte  Nacht  niedersteigt, 

Und  die  Vogel  schlafen, 

Und  die  Menschen  ruhn, 

Und  allcs  Lebendige  schweigt, 

^"XI,  p.  139.  "XI,  p.  141. 


82 

Miide  des  Korpers  Ohr  sich  schliesst; 
Da  erklingen  leise  Stimmen, 
Und  des  Geistes  Ohr 
Tut  sich  ahndend,  sehnend  auf. 
Was  ihr  sprachlos  nennt,  gewinnt  Rede, 
Und  der  Hain  spricht, 
Und  die  Wolken, 
Die  zitternden  Sterne, 
^  Des  Mondes  wehmutiger  Schein. 

Und  von  ihr  lispelt  der  Wald, 
Von  ihr  murmelt  der  Bach, 
Sie  spricht  durch  die  leisen  Klange, 
Die  auf  goldenen  Fliigeln 
Durch  den  Ather  sauseln, 
Und  sie  und  ubrall  sie, 
Durch  die  ganze  Schopfung  nur  sie ! 

It  should  be  observed  that  Grillparzer  enlivens  the  reflection 
of  the  Loved  One  in  nature,  by  appealing  to  the  ear,  as  well 
as  to  the  eye.  Nature  thus  reveals  no  mere  spectres  of  love 
that  pass  by  us  like  lantern  views,  but  love  is  endowed  with 
flesh  and  blood  and  language,  a  real  actor  upon  the  stage  of 
life.  Overwhelming,  at  first,  seems  the  consciousness  that 
nature  is  love.     So  with  Bertha:®^ 

Ich  kann's  nicht  fassen, 

Mich  selber  nicht  fassen; 

Alles  zeigt  mir  und  spricht  mir  nur  ihn  .  .  . 

On  the  other  hand,  nature  brings  clearness  in  matters  of 
affection.  Phaon  thus  learns,®^  through  intimate  communica- 
tion with  nature,  that  he  loves  Melitta,  while  the  feeling  kindled 
within  him  by  Sappho's  art  is  admiration  and  reverence. 

The  fairest  note  in  Grillparzer's  treatment  of  nature  as  love 
is  struck  by  Blanka,^"**  for  whom  the  very  appreciation  of 
nature  is  a  matter  of  altruism.  She,  too,  like  Bertha,  Spar- 
takus  and  Phaon,  sees  in  nature  the  reflection  of  her  Beloved, 
but  she  goes  further  than  that  when  she  emphasizes  that  that 
(love)  is  all  the  meaning  nature  has  for  her,  and  that  she  is 
charmed  by  nature  only  because  nature  attracts  Fedriko's 
heart.     An  enjoyment  of  nature  without  love — or  without  the 

^IV,  p.  23.  ^IV,  p.  146.  "»X,  p.  38. 


83 

Loved  One — is  impossible:  the  death  of  love  means  the  death 
of  nature;  not  for  all  (because  nature  is  immortal),  but  for  the 
particular  unfortunate  individual.  Without  love,  without 
nature,  life  is  not  worth  living,  and  should  the  shock  of  the  loss 
itself  not  be  sufficient  to  kill — the  soul  is  dead,  and  the  body  is 
a  living  corpse.  This  is  the  truth  which  lies  in  Hero's  lament- 
ing words  :^°^ 

Sag:  er  war  alles!     Was  noch  iibrig  blieb, 
Es  sind  nur  Schatten;  es  zerfallt,  ein  Nichts. 
Sein  Atem  war  die  Luft,  sein  Aug  die  Sonne, 
Sein  Leib  die  Kraft  der  sprossenden  Natur; 
Sein  Leben  war  das  Leben ;  deines,  mains, 
Des  Weltalls  Leben.     Als  wir's  liessen  sterben. 
Da  starben  wir  mit  ihm.     Komm,  lass'ger  Freund, 
Komm,  lass  uns  gehn  mit  unsrer  eignen  Leiche. 

We  turn  now  to  the  discussion  of  Irenens  Wiederkehr  which 
is  not  only  of  importance  for  Grillparzer's  interpretation  of 
nature  as  ideal  of  beauty  and  love,  but  which  contains,  crowded 
together  into  the  close  space  of  ten  pages,  almost  all  the  char- 
acteristics of  the  poet's  conception  of  nature  to  which  attention 
has  been  called  in  the  preceding  pages.  The  poet  himself  calls 
Irenens  Wiederkehr  Ein  poetisches  Gemdlde;  in  reality,  it  is 
not  one  painting,  but  a  succession  of  paintings,  all  of  which 
have  the  same  sujef,  nature,  but  each  of  which  shows  a  modi- 
fication of  the  color-scheme,  i.  e.,  each  of  these  paintings  repre- 
sents the  individual  point  of  view  held  by  the  different  char- 
acters— wanderer,  peasant,  youth  and  maiden.  There  is  no 
actual  exchange  of  opinion,  because  there  is  no  dialogue ;  but  a 
well-connected  series  of  monologues  make  it  possible  to  look 
upon  the  aggregate  of  pictures  as  a  sort  of  evolution  of  nature- 
interpretation. 

The  first  picture  is  drawn  by  the  wanderer,  the  oldest  of  the 
characters  introduced.  He  describes  and  interprets  the  mag- 
nificent spectacle  of  sunrise.  All  nature  is  endowed  with  con- 
sciousness, and  there  is  universal  rejoicing  over  the  advent  of 
light.  The  ever-varied  beauty  of  nature  causes  a  "  current  of 
pleasurable  sensations,"  but  beauty  alone  is  not  sufficient  to 

^»^  VII,  p.  96. 


84 

bind  permanently  the  human  heart,  and  love  is  necessary  to 
make  a  close  communion  between  nature  and  man  possible.  It 
is  with  significant  purpose,  therefore,  that  the  wanderer  refers 
to  nature  as  "  Das  liebende  All."  Coupled  with  beauty  and 
love  are  rest  and  peace,  two  essential  requirements  for  a  happy 
old-age.  In  spite  of  his  years,  the  wanderer  displays  youthful 
enthusiasm,  but  if  the  enthusiasm  of  youth  is  based  upon  hope, 
his  is  based  upon  conviction,  the  result  of  experience.  The 
experimental  stage  of  the  wanderer's  life  lies  far  behind  him, 
and  his  thorough  comprehension  of  the  actual  significance  of 
nature  enables  him  to  feel  as  an  inseparable  part  of  the  whole : 
his  relation  to  nature  is  that  of  creature  to  creator,  of  man  to 
God.  And  God-Nature  is  not  a  God  of  wrath,  but  of  love, 
who  never  fails  to  show  sympathy  for  the  sufferings  of  man. 

The  very  appearance  of  the  youth,  who  sketches  the  second 
picture,  points  to  his  interpretation  of  nature.  Quiver  and 
spear  are  the  attributes  which  he  carries:  he  goes  out  to  hunt 
in  the  wilderness  of  the  forest,  his  aim,  as  we  shall  see,  being 
freedom  and  pleasure.  His  ruthless  energy  causes  him  to  be 
dissatisfied  with  the  narrow  boundaries  of  domestic  life,  and 
the  peaceful  performance  of  manual  labor  lies  as  heavily  upon 
him  as  prison  chains.  He  yearns  to  breathe  the  free  air  of  the 
mountains,  and  his  adventurous  disposition  inflames  his  imagi- 
nation with  pictures  of  game,  pursued  by  the  daring  hunter 
upon  precipitous  paths.  The  youth  seeks  pleasure  in  nature, 
rather  than  nature  herself: 

An  der  Hand  der  Natur 
Folgt  er  der  Freude  Spur; 

and  thus,  with  him,  nature  is  an  object,  rather  than  an  end. 
His  conception  of  nature  is  just  as  erroneous  as  the  attitude  of 
hedonistic  philosophy  toward  life.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
youth  has  heard  the  voice  of  nature  in  solitude,  of  which  he  is 
fond,  like  all  youthful  dreamers  who  have  visions  of  future 
greatness  and  fame.  His  impressionable  heart  is  full  of  ideals, 
and  sunrise  inspires  him  to  deeds  of  unheard  of  bravery.  But, 
after  all,  he  does  not  understand  the  language  of  the  universe, 
he  has  only  an  intimation  of  nature's  true  function,  while  the 
wanderer  has  knowledge.     The  blame  rests  with  his  youth. 


85 

with  his  immaturity  which  makes  him  the  sport  of  his  im- 
pulses. The  following  words  of  the  wanderer  may  be  taken 
as  an  apologetic  characterization  of  the  youth : 

Rasch  stiirmt  der  Jiingling  durch  das  Leben, 

Verzehrend  lodert  seine  Glut, 

Nach  Taten  geht  sein  sehnend  Streben, 

Das  AH  umspannt  sein  keeker  Mut; 

Verachtend  sieht  er  auf  den  Wert  des  Kleinen ; 

Was  ihm  gefallt,  muss  ungeheuer  scheinen. 

These  words  are  then  followed  by  a  consideration  of  the  con- 
sequences which  youthful  impulsiveness  may  have,  and  the 
horrors  of  war  are  depicted  in  vivid  colors.  Here  lies  the 
great  contrast  in  the  interpretation  of  nature  given  by  wanderer 
and  youth :  while  the  wanderer  reads  in  the  pages  of  the  great 
Book  of  Nature  a  message  of  peace  and  of  universal  love,  the 
youth  interprets  the  freedom  of  nature  as  an  inspiration  to 
obtain  freedom  for  himself  at  any  cost — if  need  be,  with  the 
aid  of  the  sword. 

The  peasant  who  now  appears  behind  the  plough  at  once 
expresses  his  appreciation  of  nature  by  singing  a  hymn  in 
praise  of  the  sun.  But,  although  his  warm  words  of  grati- 
tude for  nature's  blessings  seem  to  indicate  a  more  advanced 
stage  of  interpretation  than  that  occupied  by  the  youth,  it  is 
very  evident  that  even  by  him  beauty  is  not  worshipped  for 
beauty's  sake  alone,  inasmuch  as  he  emphasizes  particularly 
the  element  of  usefulness  as  the  actual  source  of  his  apprecia- 
tion and  gratitude. 

Hehr  am  hohen  Himmelszelt 

Flammt  dein  Lauf 

Und  erhalt 

Saat  und  Feld, 

Die  durch  dich  begliickte  Welt 

Sieht  mit  Dank  zu  dir  hinauf ! 

As  a  peasant,  he  depends,  of  course,  largely  upon  nature  for 
his  livelihood,  and  we  cannot  be  astonished,  therefore,  that  he 
regards  nature  but  as  a  means  to  the  end.  Grillparzer,  it 
seems,  has  chosen  with  purpose  the  character  of  a  peasant  for 
an  illustration  of  utilitarian  interpretation  of  nature.     More- 


86 

over,  it  is  not  without  significance  that  this  peasant  is  a  middle- 
aged  man :  his  interpretation  of  nature  thus  appears  semi- 
mature,  and  he  talces  his  place  between  the  two  extremes  repre- 
sented by  wanderer  and  youth.  We  are  informed  that  the 
peasant  is  a  married  man,  and  that  the  physical  welfare  of  his 
wife  and  children  depends  upon  the  results  of  his  labor  which, 
in  turn,  depend  upon  nature.  This  point  is  to  be  taken  into 
consideration  in  addition  to  the  peasant's  age,  if  we  wish  to 
compare  his  relation  to  nature  with  that  of  the  youth.  The 
weight  of  responsibility  affects  the  formation  of  character,  and 
the  particular  responsibility  resting  upon  husband  and  father 
tends  to  break  down  the  altar  of  selfishness  upon  which  the 
young  man  sacrifices.  While  the  youth's  interpretation  of 
nature  is  obviously  hedonistic,  the  peasant  stands  on  a  con- 
siderably higher  plane :  he  sees  in  nature  the  welcome  helpmeet 
in  his  efforts  for  those  he  loves.  This  follows  from  his  appeal 
to  nature's  sympathy: 

Verdopple  dein  Feuer,  flammende  Sonne, 
Gliihende  Liifte,  weht  gliihender  fort ! 
Kiihlung  hauch  zu  mir  das  siisse  Wort : 

Alle  Miih 

Fiir  sie,  f  iir  sie ! 
Mag  meinen  Schweiss  die  Erde  trinken, 
Das  Bild  der  Teuren  lasst  mich  nicht  sinken ! 

The  entire  attitude  of  the  peasant  is  then  commented  upon  by 
the  wanderer  who  defines  the  contrast  between  him  and  the 
youth :  the  youth  destroys,  while  the  peasant  constructs ;  the 
youth  misinterprets,  while  the  peasant  begins  to  interpret 
nature.  The  picture  which  the  wanderer  here  unfolds  repre- 
sents the  bourgeois  in  his  happy  home,  and  the  interpretation 
of  nature  of  this  bourgeois  is  that  of  the  average  man. 

A  maiden,  who  has  "  sixteen  times  beheld  the  apple-tree  in 
bloom,"  is  introduced  in  the  next-following  picture.  She 
shows  as  yet  no  interpretation  of  nature  at  all;  or,  if  the  fact 
that  the  beauty  of  spring  no  longer  thrills  her  heart  as  before, 
and  that  she  is  unable  to  take  part  in  nature's  universal  rejoic- 
ing, is  to  be  called  interpretation  of  nature,  it  is  certainly  sub- 
conscious.   She  knows  as  little  of  the  significance  of  nature  as 


87 

she  is  able  to  account  for  the  change  which  has  come  over  her. 
The  wanderer  becomes  her  teacher.  It  is  he  who,  hidden 
behind  a  rock,  comforts  the  distracted  child  by  showing  her 
the  cause  of  her  sentimental  malady,  and  who  thus  arouses 
her  slumbering  virginity  to  consciousness.  His  mature  appre- 
ciation of  nature  appears  again  in  the  method  which  he  pur- 
sues. A  spark  from  nature's  divinity  has  fallen  into  the  heart 
of  the  girl,  and  before  the  wanderer  is  able  to  explain  to  the 
bewildered  maiden  the  meaning  of  her  experience,  he  turns 
to  the  cause,  to  the  origin  itself,  and  lends  expression  to  his 
lofty  conception  of  nature: 

Es  steigt  ein  Gott  von  Himmel  nieder, 
Die  Schopfung  ist  ihm  untertan, 
Es  tonen  ihm  der  Vogel  Lieder, 
I  Jim  flammt  die  Sonn'  auf  lichter  Bahn ! 
Die  Erde  fiihlet  seine  Triebe; 
Als  kraft'ge  Pflanze  reisst  sich  los. 
Was  einst  in  ihrem  kalten  Schoss 
Verhiillt  sich  barg  als  schwacher  Same. 

Liebe, 

Liebe ! 
Ist  des  Belebers  siisser  Name ! 

The  impression  made  upon  the  young  girl  then  assumes  a 
visible  form  with  the  sudden  appearance  of  the  youth  she 
loves,  upon  the  height  of  the  rock.  It  is  then  that  she  comes 
to  the  full  realization  of  what  is  taking  place  within  her  heart ; 
she  flees,  to  conceal  her  blushing  cheeks,  and  we  lose  sight  of 
her.  We  are  not  told  where  she  is  going,  but  there  can  be  no 
doubt,  that  her  aim  is  solitary  communion  with  nature  which, 
as  ideal  of  love,  will  henceforth  be  her  haven  of  rest  and 
refuge,  and  which  alone  can  give  her  instruction  in  tlie  per- 
formance of  woman's  sublime  and  altruistic  mission — mother- 
hood! 

After  the  maiden's  escape,  the  wanderer,  in  the  form  of  an 
epilogue  points  out  the  differences  in  the  character  of  man 
and  woman,  and  he  shows  that  these  differences  are  so  dis- 
tributed as  to  supplement  rather  than  to  counteract  each  other. 
Importance  must  be  attached  also  to  this  statement,  because 


by  showing  that  man  and  woman  together  form  one  unit,  the 
wanderer  establishes  the  symmetry  of  nature  as  part  of  her 
ideal  beauty. 

Who,  now,  is  this  mysterious  wanderer  who,  from  "  jenseits 
von  Gut  und  Bose,"  as  it  were,  passes  judgment  upon  the 
various  kinds  of  interpretation  of  nature  shown  by  youth, 
peasant  and  maiden,  and  who  sets  forth  his  own  lofty  ideas 
with  such  overwhelming  force?  It  can  be  no  one  else  than 
Grillparzer  himself,  to  whom  nature  means  so  much,  and  who 
desires  to  impress  others  with  the  purified  truth  which  he 
believes  to  have  in  his  possession.  We  have  had  occasion  to 
hear  the  "  wanderer's  "  voice  in  numerous  other  passages,  but 
in  Irenens  Wiederkehr  it  is  not  only  most  eloquent,  but  also 
expresses  the  thought  in  its  most  complete  form,  and  thus 
solidifies  the  basis  of  the  poet's  pantheistic  interpretation  of 
nature. 


CONCLUSION 

Grillparzer's  nature-poetry  is  not  so  much  an  original  con- 
ception of  nature  as  an  original  expression  of  modern  inter- 
pretation. We  have  had  occasion  to  study  the  poet's  careful 
treatment  of  the  seasons  of  the  year,  and  we  have  noted  his 
preference  for  the  two  extremes  Spring  and  Winter.  Our 
attention  has  been  directed  upon  his  exceedingly  sensitive  dis- 
position toward  light  and  darkness,  as  well  as  upon  his  appre- 
ciation of  water,  thunder,  rain  and  storm,  while  we  were  able 
to  admire  his  many-colored  landscapes,  and  to  infer  his  love 
for  nature  from  his  readiness  to  make  use  of  her  in  meta- 
phors. On  the  other  hand,  we  are  now  acquainted  with  the 
particular  characteristics  which  Grillparzer  ascribes  to  nature ; 
with  his  treatment  of  solitude  and  mysticism;  with  his  appeals 
to  nature's  sympathy;  with  his  symbolic  interpretation  of 
nature,  and,  finally,  with  his  analysis  of  cosmic  metaphysics. 
Grillparzer,  as  a  poet  of  nature,  reveals  the  influence  exerted 
upon  him  especially  by  the  romantic  reaction,^  but  he  is  more 
closely  related  to  Byron  than  to  Tieck  or  Novalis.  That  he 
could  not,  without  Goethe,  have  given  expression  to  a  panthe- 
istic conception  of  nature,  or,  without  the  influence  of  the 
Greeks  and  of  Rousseau,  to  a  perpetual  longing  for  the  balm 
of  solitude,  goes  without  saying.  While  he,  then,  like  any 
modern  poet,  derived  the  essence  of  his  interpretation  of 
nature  from  traditional  standards,  his  inborn  love  for  nature 
and  the  individuality  of  his  expression  must  be  taken  into 
consideration. 

The  key  to  Grillparzer's  nature-poetry  may  be  found  in  his 
aesthetic  principles.  In  his  Autobiography-  he  refers  to 
nature  as  the  "  real  source  of  the  true  poet,"  and  in  his  studies 
Zur  Poesie  im  Allgemeinen^  he  says  emphatically :  "  That 
which  attains  the  vivacity  of  nature  and  yet,  by  virtue  of  the 
concomitant  ideas,  goes  beyond  nature,  that,  and  only  that  is 

'Vide  above,  p.   12.  -XIX,  p.  186.  'XV,  p.  55. 

89 


90 

poetry."  However,  Grillparzer's  art  does  not  consist  of  a 
mere  imitation  of  nature,  for  he  admits  the  truth  of  a  passage 
in  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,'^  where  art  is  defined  as  the  inter- 
pretation of  nature.  "  Nor  is  art,"  he  says  elsewhere,^  "  an 
embelhshment  of  nature,  for  who  could  render  individual 
traits  of  nature  more  beautiful  than  they  are?  Compare  a 
painted  tree  with  life,  the  description  of  a  landscape  with 
reality,  the  Venus  of  Medici  with  your  sweetheart !  " — Another 
statement  made  by  the  poet  himself,  in  the  evening  of  his  life 
(1864),  is  of  special  interest  for  the  characterization  of  his 
nature-poetry  -.^  "  The  Brothers  Schlegel  have  cast  the  shibbo- 
leth into  the  world,  that  ancient  poetry  is  objective,  while 
modern  poetry  is  subjective.  That  sort  of  poetry  which  is 
not  subjective  is,  in  my  opinion,  no  poetry  at  all."  The  pro- 
nounced subjectivity  which  appears  in  Grillparzer's  description 
and  interpretation  of  nature  often  reminds  one  of  Geo. 
Brandes'"  definition  of  Lord  Byron's  true  greatness :  namely, 
the  passionate  manifestation  of  subjectivity  and  individualism. 

It  is  far  from  me  to  attempt  to  lift  Grillparzer's  lyric  poetry 
to  the  height  of  Lord  Byron  or  to  that  of  Goethe.  As  a 
dramatic  poet,  Grillparzer  shows  many  points  of  contact 
with  Goethe,  as  Waniek  has  shown  in  his  pamphlet  Grill- 
parzer unter  Goethes  Einfluss,  Bielitz,  1893,  and  also  in  his 
interpretation  of  nature  we  meet  with  kindred  thoughts  (cf. 
for  example  the  following  passage  from  the  Ahnfrau:  Und 
mit  tausend  Flammenaugen  starrt  die  Nacht  nich  glotzcnd  an 
with  Goethe's  Finsternis,  die  aiis  dcm  Gcstrduche  mit  hundert 
schivarzen  Augen  sieht),  although  Goethe's  wonderful  lyric 
language  has  not  been  duplicated. 

As  for  Lord  Byron,  Grillparzer  himself  felt  that  there  was 
an  apparent  relation  between  them,  and,  in  various  passages, 
in  his  Diaries,  he  draws  comparisons  between  the  British  poet 
and  himself.  Both  poets  were  also  of  kindred  temperament, 
and  their  various  sad  experiences,  which  ultimately  led  them 
to  a  solitary  life,  would  tend  to  show  points  of  biographical 
similarity. 

*  Asthetische  Studien,  XV,  p.  26.    ^  Ibid.,  p.  25, 

°  Tagebiicher,  II,  p.  141.  ''  Der  N aturalismiis  in  England,  p.  303. 


91 

To  establish  the  position  of  Grillparzer,  as  a  poet  of  nature, 
between  Goethe  and  Lord  Byron,  would  require  another  bulky 
treatise  in  which  Grillparzer's  nature-poetry  should  be  studied 
from  a  comparative  point  of  view.  The  present  investigation 
is  confined  to  the  discussion  of  Grillparzer's  individual  treat- 
ment of  nature,  and  the  poet's  apparent  kinship  to  the  foremost 
representatives  of  lyric  poetry  in  Germany  and  England  must 
be  regarded  as  a  mere  suggestion  to  some  other  student. 

Whatever  has  been,  and  may  still  be  said  in  criticism  of 
Grillparzer's  lyric  vein,  it  is  earnestly  hoped  that  these  pages 
may  have  prepared  the  way  for  a  more  serious  consideration 
of  his  genius  and  of  his  actual  achievements  in  the  field  of 
lyrics.  Above  all,  let  us  not  forget  that  Grillparzer  at  all  times 
painted  what  he  saw  as  he  saw  it.  The  truthfulness  of  his 
character  which  his  biographers  laud  is  reflected  also  in  his 
poetry,  and  in  his  poetry  of  nature  in  particular.  Gustav 
Pollak^  sums  up  this  thought  as  follows :  "  Grillparzer's  lyric 
vein  which  lends  to  his  dramas  so  unique  a  charm,  found  ex- 
pression in  numerous  poems  which  are  a  remarkably  faithful 
reflex  of  his  inner  life.  No  writer  ever  followed  more  scru- 
pulously Goethe's  example  in  seeking  inspiration  in  the  reality 
of  his  experiences."  In  addition  to  this  comes  the  poet's  con- 
sciousness that  he  possessed  the  true  original.  The  following 
poem,  in  which  Grillparzer  apparently  pokes  fun  at  the  copy- 
ists of  past  and  present,  contains  a  significant  self-praise  which, 
however,  we  must  accept  as  justified  and  true: 

Das  Urbild  und  die  Abbilder. 
(An  eine  Nicht-Dichterin) 
Kunstbeflissen  und  unverzagt, 
Feder  und  Farben  und  Stift  in  den  Taschen, 
Ziehen  sie  aus  in  wilder  Jagd, 
Unschuld  und  Reiz  und  Natur  zu  erhaschen. 
Was  er  erhascht  und  was  er  erringt, 
Jeder  fein  fleissig  zu  Buche  bringt, 
Um  in  des  Winters  Frieren  und  Harmen 
Sich  an  dem  kostlichen  Labsal  zu  warmen. 
Wie  ?  und  nur  du  mehrst  nicht  ihre  Zahl  ? 
Schatzest  du  nicht,  wonach  jene  geizen? 
^  Frans  Grillparzer  and  the  Austrian  Drama,  p.  401. 


92 


Kann  dich  Natur  und  Unschuld  nicht  reizen? 
Oder  war's  hier  wie  im  Bildersaal? 
Alles  rennt  dort  und  hascht  nach  Kopieen; 
Einer  nur  will  sich  nicht  viel  bemiihen — 
"Tragt  er  im  Busen  ein  Herz  von  Stahl?" 
Nein — er  besitzt  das  Original ! 


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